Royal Squire
by Madrigal of Rose
Summary: Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood was only relying on reflex when she saved Crowned Prince Roald of Conte from an assassination attempt. As her reward, or perhaps her punishment, she is asked to be Squire to the man who will one day be her King. Or rather he would be King, should he survive that long. Rated T for violence and romantic interactions later on.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back again with a new idea for characters and places that belong to the creative genius of Tamora Pierce!**

If asked, The Crowned Prince of Tortall Sir Roald of Conte would say that a Midsummer Ball was always a chaotic event. If asked, he would point out that things always went wrong. Enemies always crossed paths and no one could ever hold their tongues. Young ladies vying for husbands usually got into catty tiffs that would most likely result in revenge and years of grudges. Young noblemen looking for beautiful ladies to enchant and possibly snag for a wife or a night could end up dueling and more likely prank each other immediately. There were jilted lovers, drunken accidents, and spats that surfaced at every event. It was an optimist or a liar who said the ball went grandly. Usually, as the future King of Tortall, he would fall on the liar who said it went grandly and would gloss over all of the issues as blown out of proportion. But this particular ball was a disaster no one would try and gloss over.

Roald only thanked the Gods that his wife had been too exhausted with her second pregnancy to attend the ball and his son was too young to be up that late. The ball had been going on for nearly three hours and would go on for another two hours at least. Some of the elderly nobility had already left and the younger crowd was getting fairly drunk with liquor and flirtations now that parents were starting to leave. Roald's own parents had left him to watch over everything alone at this point. His own friends would visit now and then between their dances and flirtations but it was becoming fewer visits and further and further apart. But overall he was left alone to examine the regular chaos that ensued.

Feeling tired, Roald flagged down a squire with a tray of tea near him. He was pleasantly surprised to realize the squire in service to the palace was a young woman. He knew, of course, females had started to enter the page program more frequently and he was truly happy to see it. What he was surprised to see was the young woman had to be roughly sixteen and he knew she hadn't been in service to the palace for two years so she had to be a new squire. He could ask her her age and about her decision to start late. He intended to ask her such a thing except that as she reached him with her tray full of cups of tea her smiling face changed. Her smile dropped down to a small frown, her wide blue eyes narrowed on something just over Roald's shoulder. And then the tray was on the ground with shattered cups and spilled tea and Roald was falling.

As Roald hit the ground he heard screaming erupt throughout the ballroom. Men were shouting, ladies shrieking, and there was a pounding vibration under his head that told him people were running. Firm hands helped him to sit up and a warm, wet cloth was touched to his head. He reached up a hand to examine why it was there and found blood on the cloth. The firm hand pushed it back into place.

"Come on Roald, you know better," a familiar voice spoke in his ear. "Where else are you injured Roald? Were you hit?"

"Hit?" He found he was dizzy and guessed he had hit his head when that squire had shoved him to the ground. "The only thing that hit me was a squire. What did I ever do to her?" He turned to look directly into the dark eyes of his best friend Sir Faleron of King's Reach. His dark eyes shifted telling Roald he had missed the mark. "What?" No answer. "What? Dammit, Fal, what in Mithros name happened?"

Faleron still didn't answer. Instead he moved ever so slightly to the side allowing Roald to look past him to see the squire laying in her own tray wreckage with three arrows sticking out of her chest. Two men were turning her onto her back and examining the damage.

"That's Dom, right? Kel's Dom?" Roald asked Faleron who nodded confirming the identity of the second man helping Sir Nealan of Queenscove with the squire. "The archer?"

"Aiming for you. We saw you fall and we saw her take the first arrow… you have some well-trained warriors on your side."

"Is she dead?" Roald nodded to the squire.

"Not yet but it's a possibility," Neal called over. "Dom, we need to get her to the infirmary. She's losing blood fast."

"I have someone grabbing a stretcher." Dom's deep voice carried like a command in battle.

"She won't make it that long. We need to get her there now." Neal's deep emerald Gift was sparkling over the wounds.

"Fine. Just get Uncle ready," Dom stood and in one swift movement scooped the squire into his arms. Neal was already opening a speech spell as Dom disappeared into the hallway.

"We should get you down to the infirmary too," Faleron moved to slip a large hand under Roald's armpit to lift him up. Roald knew he should argue. He wasn't full of arrow holes or dying. He simply had a bump on his head and taking attention from a real injury seemed petty. But at the same time he knew it was stupid to ignore a head injury. With a nod of confirmation, Faleron steered him out of the ballroom with a squad of the King's Own joining them.

* * *

><p>It's one thing to die. It's another thing for it to start to become a familiar sensation. One would think that the sensation would be pain, a slow creep of a black chill, and the ripping of the soul from the body. But it wasn't really like that. Death comes cloaked in confusion. And she, Gwendoyln of Merrywood, stood on a fog locked road alone doused in confusion.<p>

This place was familiar. A dream. No. A memory. She had brushed death twice before. Once when she had been pushed by her sister out of their hiding place in their tree when they were both young she had stood on this road and cried because she was suddenly alone and didn't know why. It had been a bad dream, she had been told by the healer who pulled her back from death. But the bad dream had returned only four years later when she had jumped in flood waters near the Convent in the City of the Gods to save a commoner's child who had slipped and had tumbled in. Now she knew it was no dream but simply a reality. This was the roadway to death. Or how her spirit realized death, really. But she didn't understand how she got to this point. What had she been doing when she died?

It took some thinking. And she started by looking at her clothes. A pair of blue hose, a blue shirt, a silver tunic… the clothing of a squire in palace service. Of course that one made sense to her. After her second brush with death and the endless verbal abuse she had received at the Convent for her stupidity at being so heroic for a commoner, she had simply quit and gone to where such acts would be expected since she had no remorse for saving a life and no intention of avoiding it in the future. In fact, when she had joined page training, she had been simply thrilled at the prospect she might be able to do some good again. So she had survived pagehood to become a squire but had not been picked by a knight yet.

An image flashed before her: a tray with cups on it being passed to her. Squires served at meetings and parties. That was common knowledge. So which was it? Neither seemed particularly dangerous. Though meetings could get heated if opposing political views were involved or old blood feuds between families. And parties, well things could certainly happen at a party. There was usually too much going on to keep track of everything so something dangerous could slip in. But usually there were too many eyes keeping track of so many different things.

Another image flashed before her eyes: a tall flower and garland wrapped pole in front of the palace and another one wrapped in ribbons inside of a large marble room. She recognized these as traditional decorations for summer festivals. Usually Beltane and Midsummer. So which one. She sat on the road, because walking in either direction without information seemed silly, as she thought. If it was Beltane she would still be a page, not a squire. So it made sense that it was a Midsummer festival of some type. Yes, she remembered that much now. It was a Midsummer Ball put on by the Royalty. She had been serving at a Midsummer Ball.

Her fingers found the first hole in her tunic and shirt. They were clean with no blood to indicate that was how she had gone. But then again a spirit had no blood so it wouldn't show anyway. She fingered the second hole and then the third. All were in her chest. If she had been pierced three times over in the chest, she probably would die. It was a likely answer. But who would stab a squire three times over at a ball? It seemed terribly silly.

Her family fief, Merrywood, was an unobtrusive fief in the middle of a dense wood that kept to itself. They didn't have political enemies because they didn't put themselves forth politically. They made no trade enemies because they didn't undercut and they didn't pressure. It truly made no sense.

The feel of her hands pushing against silk over hard muscle jarred her. She had shoved someone. Fairly hard by the memory of the feeling. She never shoved out of malice. After her first brush with death her family had drilled into heads that shoving someone had consequences and it should only be done in protection, not in jest or malice. So she had to have protected someone. She couldn't remember who but the fog around her was starting to sparkle shades of green. That seemed a bit odd but then again she was dead and who was she to decide what was odd and what wasn't in the Peaceful Realms. Then the fog in front of her started to lessen while that behind her grew denser. Clearly that was the way she was supposed to go, so she rose and started to walk.

With the first ten steps in the green sparked fog she was winded. Then next ten saw three circles of numbness burning in her chest under the holes in her tunic and shirt. The next ten had the numbness turning to searing pain. Another ten and she was stumbling with weakness while her chest blazed with fiery agony. She struggled to push her foot forward for another step while her brain screamed for her to stop. Moving forward was hurting. Moving forward was killing her. But her body seemed to ignore that that and she took another step as darkness closed around her taking the road, the green sparked fog, and all thoughts with it until there was nothing more.

**A/N: Those of you who have read Being the Godssent from me will notice several name similarities. It's simply because I like the names of people and places and it took me a long time to find what I viewed to be good names of people and places. Please note this story is not connected in any way to any of my other stories. Please Read and Review!  
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	2. Chapter 2

Images flashed through the darkness. The serving tray, the Midsummer decorations, the people dancing. Then Gwen saw the Prince waving her over and she was walking towards him balancing the tray of tea that Master Oakbridge had forced on her. How easy the answer seemed now as in her dream she walked towards the Prince and saw the archer over his shoulder with his bow raised and pointed at the Prince's back. The tray that had been glued into her hands all night detached without a second thought. Her hands were on his silk covered chest and then she had the unholy privilege of seeing her Prince's head bounce off of the marble floor before she felt the need to sink to the ground. Three epicenters of pain radiated tidal waves of agony throughout her body. People were screaming, seeming to recognize that a weapon had been used and now the Prince was on the ground. There were feet running all around her, but her eyes remained trained on the Prince, laying on the ground unmoving. She had been too forceful with her push. She had cracked his head and perhaps he had died because she had tried to save him. If she lived through her injuries, she would face death at Traitor's Hill. There was no doubt in her mind about that.

Somewhere in Gwen's mind it registered that she was no longer asleep and she was consciously thinking of what would happen to her now that she was aware the Prince had not gotten back up from his head bouncing against the marble like a child's toy ball. Well since she was awake, she would have to face the music sooner or later. Perhaps sooner was best. Dwelling on what would happen would only make her worry worse. And she really couldn't fake being asleep forever. Slowly she opened one eye and then another.

The room she was in was dimly but comfortably lit. It struck her how familiar this place was to her. The narrow bed was draped with a familiar green comforter. The desk by the window was neatly organized and topped with rows of books that didn't fit on the bookshelf to her left. Armor and weapon stands stood to her right. This room looked familiar because it was familiar. It was her room in the squire's wing. She knew the doorways led to a privy and a dressing room and out into the hall. Surely she should have been brought to the infirmary or perhaps the dungeons, not in her own room.

"If you're awake you might as well drink this terrible healer's concoction Sir Nealan of Queenscove sent up for you," a man's deep voice made her turn her head far enough to the side to see a man with dark, short cropped hair, dark eyes, and a purple and black badge that marked him as King's Reach. She recognized the man immediately. He was Sir Faleron of King's Reach, oldest son to the Countess of King's Reach who handpicked young noble women to train as ladies. Her training was considered, by Convent standards, to be elite. Princesses did not go to the Convent but to the Countess of King's Reach. King's Reach had always been a pillar of the Kingdom of Tortall. And she knew that the men of King's Reach had a long line of magistrates and law keeping officials in its history. As it was a man of King's Reach at her side, it seemed likely she had broken a serious law. As it was the Prince's best friend, she guessed there was something personal in his involvement as he wasn't a magistrate yet though the general consensus at Court was he would be some day.

"Why?" Gwen managed to croak out when she finally managed to realize what he had said. Why give her healer's concoction when she would face Traitor's Hill? Did they think she would get sympathy for being injured and wanted the people to cheer for her death rather than question the Crown for executing an injured woman? Or did they think she might be in so much pain she would welcome death and it would not be a punishment for her unless she faced the gallows at full health and strength?

"Because," Faleron's voice cut through her thinking to give her the answer she craved.  
>"Because Prince Roald generally likes his heroes, or shall I say heroine in your case, to survive their wounds long enough for him to thank them," Faleron moved to stand next over her with the cup. "He wanted to be here when you woke but it seems he developed a bit of a concussion somehow and needs to be monitored in the infirmary. He asked if I would be here when you woke as his representative. Sitting is going to hurt, I'm sorry," he slid a muscled arm around her torso and lifted. The motion caused a feeling like a thousand hot needles touching her chest. She bit back her gasp and managed to nod to Faleron as the cup came closer to her lips. The contents of the cup would have convinced her she was still being punished had she not been informed the Prince had lived. She swallowed it with a gulp and was relieved when Faleron held a cup of juice for her to get rid of the taste.<p>

"His Highness doesn't want me executed then?" She asked when the knight started to adjust the pillows behind her to keep her sitting.

"Why in Mithros name would he want to execute the person who took three arrows for him?" Faleron's dark eyes were wide with confusion.

"Because I made him hit his head and he… he… you said he had a concussion. I did that. That's my fault." Gwen stammered out trying to grasp onto reasoning that only a few minutes before had seemed so sound and now were looking a little flimsy.

"Ah," Faleron's confusion seemed to die and he sat back in his chair relaxing. "Roald is a knight. He was trained to avoid getting his head smacked into marble floors just like you, just like me. His reflexes should have kicked in if he had been keeping up on his training. What's the first thing you learn in hand to hand combat?"

Gwen blushed realizing what he was getting at. "How to fall."

"Exactly. In the end it's his own fault he didn't at least protect his head. Anyone else with your quick reflexes would have showed him out of the way too." Faleron smiled at her. "I've already lectured him about him letting himself get knocked over by a first year squire let alone allow his Royal head smack on the ground. I probably would have kept on lecturing him if he hadn't sent me after you."

"Oh." She settled back and looked over herself noting she was in her nightgown with heavy bandages around her chest. "Why am I in my room? Shouldn't I be in the infirmary?"

"You would think so wouldn't you? Once again you're culprit is Roald. When Duke Baird said he had had to resuscitate you and that you were finally stable, Roald ordered you to be brought here because he said you would be more comfortable in your own room." Faleron sighed. "Duke Baird sent his son, Sir Nealan to keep an eye on you."

"I see he lasted very long," she made a point of glancing around.

"Trust me, you wouldn't have wanted him here when you woke. If Roald thinks I gave him a lecture, Neal has a longer much more dramatic one. Rather than both of us listening to it for the third time in a row I sent him to go do it to Roald and get it off of his chest." Faleron shook his head. "Do you want something to eat? Some broth?"

"Broth would be nice," Gwen admitted.

"Then I shall return with something to sate your hunger," Faleron stood and swept a bow. He left the room and shut the door, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company. But her thoughts were enough to keep her occupied. She would have to write her parents about this incident. Would they allow her to continue after her third brush with death or would they lock her away at Merrywood to keep her safe from her protective nature? They had never been ones to stop her before but that didn't mean it couldn't develop if she kept giving them reasons to stop her. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she didn't hear the people approaching in the hall until they were on the other side of her door.

"Neal, I don't need another lecture. I know what a concussion is and I've been observed long enough. I'm fine. Now I'm going to talk to Squire Gwendolyn and you're going to go somewhere else for a while."

"But she's my patient," a clear, haughty voice followed. She at least recognized Sir Nealan of Queenscove's voice though only because most of the pages had learned to avoid the man simply by voice alone. If a page waited too long to run from the scholarly knight, they could find themselves cornered and questioned about their training and held up for hours by his explanations of why things were the way they were. Gwen, herself, had never had the pleasure of being held captive by Sir Nealan to hear his scholar's view on the misworkings of the knight's education but she had a feeling there was a chance it was coming. And judging by the other voice she was about to see Prince Roald of Conte as well.

The door opened and she found herself looking at the man she had knocked over the knight before with a bit of interest. She had only ever seen the very elegant version of the Prince. He had only ever been dressed in his best silks and velvets and brocades for any time she had seen him. As had any of the royalty at the palace. But now he was dressed in a plain white cotton shirt, plain cotton black breeches, and worn and faded black leather boots. His usually immaculate raven colored hair was swept back as if he had run his hands through it. And his usually serene sapphire eyes were snapping as he took in her sitting up awake and the empty chair by her bed.

"For Mithros sake, doesn't anyone ever listen to me?" Roald threw his hands in the air.

"Sir Faleron," Gwen nodded to the chair so Roald knew she was aware of what he was complaining about, "went to find food."

"And he left you alone though you need to be monitored," Sir Nealan stepped around Roald and started doing a fussy version of a healer's check on her. Before anyone could say anything more, the door opened again and Faleron stepped in with a tray.

"Squire Gwendolyn, I couldn't charm any broth off of the kitchen staff but perhaps you'd like some porridge?" Faleron ignored the other two in the room, locking his eyes on Gwen.

"Porridge is wonderful. I suppose it's breakfast time then?" Gwen asked.

"It will be in an hour or so," Roald took Faleron's chair and rested his arms on his knees while he looked her over. "I'm making it a point to figure out what sort of creature you are. Merrywood normally doesn't send us noble children for knight training let alone a lady who was at the convent for two years first. And there's not many who would take three arrows for a person they don't even know."

Gwen focused on the bowl in front of her rather than look up as she interrupted the Crowned Prince deliberately in the middle of his attempts to explain why he was trying to figure her out. "Sir Faleron said anyone would have shoved you out of the way to protect you. And really it's not as if I have to know you personally. You're the Crowned Prince. I'm honor and duty bound as a warrior of your realm to protect you." She had never been so bold as to speak to an elder person in such a way before, let alone higher ranking people, and there was no doubt she wouldn't have the courage to do so again. When her statements were met with silence she looked up to see three pairs of eyes on her all with the same calculating look.

"There's a flaw with your thinking," Sir Nealan told her finally. She almost rolled her eyes knowing that she was about to get a long lecture. "I've found that there's a big difference between protecting the Crown because you are honor and duty bound and protecting the Crown because you believe in it. Honor and Duty might slip up when you find you are constantly butting heads with the Crown. Eventually one might change their thinking slightly and say that their Honor and Duty is to Tortall and not the Crown per say. And now we have a chance of rebellion and treason."

"What Sir Nealan is trying to get at," Roald glared at his friend, "is being duty and honor bound to the Crown doesn't exactly explain your actions unless you are involved somehow."

"But Sir Faleron said anyone would have done it," Gwen looked to the man who gave her an encouraging smile. "I'm not special. And I hurt you." She felt her traitorous mouth give out the words to remind the man she had been responsible for his concussion.

"Sir Faleron is talking about the 'anyone's' he spends time with which happen to be close personal friends of mine as well." Roald sighed. "This isn't going as I meant it to." He rested his head in his hands for a moment.

"Then perhaps you'd like to start over," Gwen urged wanting to see where he had intended the conversation to go. Roald looked up at her with a wry smile and tilted his head as if considering something.

"I don't need to start over. There's nothing to be gained from unsaying anything. I simply meant to come in here, check on your progress, and thank you properly. Except half of the problem is I don't have a proper gift to give you at this time."

"Oh please," she begged, "no gifts are necessary and no thank yous are either." A blush was creeping its way up her cheeks.

"Well there is something I think I can do for you," Roald stood and smiled down at her. Suddenly she wasn't looking at a man in plain cotton clothes with swept hair. She was looking at a Ruler whose very air displayed his power and confidence. "Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood, I would like to extend to you the offer to be in my service as my personal squire."

"As all good gifts of gratitude from the Crown, this one is laced with more and more work. Only the Crown ever sees these things as so called gifts," Sir Nealan muttered, but Gwen wasn't listening. She was thinking.

To be squire to the Crowned Prince was a powerful place to be to learn not only how to be a knight but also the politics of the realm. If they got on well she could have a good place in Roald's Court when King Jonathon and Thayet either passed on to the Peaceful Realms or abdicated in his favor. But there was the small matter of her parents' reactions to the new brush with death. But could they really fault her for being the Prince's Squire? And what if she wasn't good enough? But hadn't she already proven she could and would lay down her life for his? The physical training and intellectual training were already well in hand.

"I would like that, Your Highness. I would like that very much."

"Then you can call me Roald," he offered her his hand to shake and she took it confidently.

"Then it's Gwen."


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen prided herself on being someone who could prepare for every outcome. She took time to think about her actions and the possible outcomes when she had the actual time to do so. She conveniently ignored what she was now referring to as "The Incident" that had taken place now two weeks beforehand. But it was now The Incident that had her thinking again. In her hands she held the letter, from her parents, which was the response to her news. She had not been fully honest. She had not disclosed that she had technically died and that only the quick work of the Chief Royal Healer had brought her back around. She had also not disclosed that she had given the Crowned Prince of Tortall, the future King, a concussion because she had shoved him and shoving in her family was pretty much never the answer.

"It's not going to read itself," Roald was sitting nearby at his own desk looking through letters. They had yet to come up with any particular schedule and since she was still recovering, she simply followed Roald everywhere he went in hopes if he needed her she could be of some use.

"But," she frowned at the letter trying to think of what to say to her new knight master. They were comfortable together. They had spent the last two weeks in each other's company just getting used to each other. But the reality was, she had spent the last two weeks quietly trying to figure out where she stood and how to adjust herself to fit in better with Prince Roald. Some knight masters preferred a squire to be frank. Others preferred them to stay quiet, in the corner, and not venture an opinion of their own. And there was a whole range of people in between. Roald's quiet and somewhat stiff nature had her still wondering how much she could say without crossing a line. Now she looked up at him and saw him patiently watching her, waiting for her to spit out what she had started to say. "Well, it's just, having been injured again in a serious way may cause a reaction out of my parents. I'm not sure if this letter will be a summons home or not." She traced the edges of the seal of Merrywood: a large oak with its branches very twisted and visible.

"Gwendolyn," she physically cringed when he said her full name. "Gwen," he amended and he was giving her the kind, diplomatic smile when she looked up at him. "If it were a summons, what would you do?"

"If it happens to be a summons to return home," she tapped the letter against her knees and really thought. Her first instinct was to say she would obey. She owed her parents obedience. But another thought crossed her mind before she opened her mouth to speak. The Prince's Squire. She was the Prince's Squire. She had done something that many people were telling her was simply the definition of heroic to earn that place. And she wanted to prove she deserved that place. "I'd fight them on it. I don't want to go home simply because there was some danger. I mean, being a knight means putting myself in dangerous situations constantly. We all knew this when I decided on knighthood." She sat up a little straighter in her chair. Already her fingers were sliding under the seal and popping it open. When she glanced up at Roald she saw he had returned to his letters but he was grinning. "Thank you, Highness," she said just loud enough for him to hear before she started to read.

She read the letter through three times over before she folded it back up and frowned. "Are we getting ready for a fight then?" Roald asked her calmly.

"I don't think so," she frowned again. "They are more concerned that my story is a bit different from the one your father sent them." She looked up at her knight master and raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't aware he was sending out a letter to your family," Roald told her. "What were the differences?"

"I didn't exactly mention I had died." She had no problem saying that she had died. She was not afraid of dying. She only had a fear of her parents' reaction to that news, not that it had happened. But she found that mentioning she had indeed died often brought a look of guilt to Roald's face and pity or sympathy from anyone else in hearing when she said it.

"And my father did?" Roald spoke softly. "Mention your… death… that is?"

"It would seem so. I will have to clear up the details it seems and see if the next letter is a summons." She returned to tapping the letter against her knees. "Perhaps you need something from me yet?" Gwen pressed when they sat in silence for another minute. "A letter run to Sir Faleron, an order from the kitchens, to fetch something from your rooms?"

"Not right at this moment, and probably not for the rest of today," Roald set down his letters again and looked her over. "Perhaps we should see to your kit? I haven't done that yet and you need to be properly kitted to be my squire." He marched towards the door. "Have I given orders for a proper Conte shield yet? No? What about proper uniforms? Well, you are really going to have to keep me on task on these things." He informed her as he steered her down the hall aiming for the squire's wing to look over her gear.

Several hours later Gwen sat at her own desk rewriting the letter to her parents. She was explaining her position as Roald's squire and how he had spent the better part of the afternoon teasing her. Yes, the Crowned Prince, the dignified, silent, impassive Prince, had cracked jokes at her expense and had encouraged her to retaliate. It had opened a door between them. The awkward and long silences were gone and any silence they did have was comfortable. Gwen was fully aware of her role in Roald's life now. She was to remind him to be her knight master, something he simply didn't think about doing on top of his duties as Crowned Prince and his roles of husband and father. But Gwen imagined being so much more than just a reminder he needed to be a knight master. She planned to be his right hand and make him wonder how he had done without her. She told her parents such in the letter, hoping the more information she told them about her hopes, there would be a better chance they would allow her to stay.

It was still early in the evening but Roald had dismissed her for the night after his inspection and having her measured for a proper uniform. He had told her he knew better than to anger Sir Neal about pushing her too hard before she had fully healed. Before he left he had winked at her and told her to be ready to go get armor fitted in the morning right after breakfast. She guessed the armor would be more show than need at this point, but as a proper squire, she needed armor all the same.

But just because he was done with her for the day didn't mean she couldn't start being useful after she finished her letter. Sir Neal had let it slip that Roald was busy preparing for a meeting with a diplomatic committee from Tusaine. Everyone in Tortall who was paying any sort of attention knew that Tusaine was growing uneasy again and that with the right spark, another war could be had. One thing was certain for Gwen, who was certainly paying attention. She would be serving at any of these meetings and she had best brush up on her information. She had gone through the libraries in her previous quiet evenings and had found every book on Tusaine she could take back to her rooms and started to read. Now she went to her pile of books that Roald hadn't even glanced at and opened up a book that was the latest edition of the wars of Tusaine including the last one with Tortall.

Roald came to collect her from the mess hall the next morning as he had promised her. Until this point the other squires and pages had avoided her, letting their awe of her heroics get the better of them. Roald entering the mess hall to gather her only succeeded in turning the awed silence into hushed, excited whispers. Glancing up at Lord Padraig haMinch, Gwen tucked away a smile as he rolled his eyes. He had come to check on her two days after the ball and had told her he was proud of her, in his gruff manner, and had made it a point to not be in awe of her heroics. He had told her very simply that any knight he had trained had better have taken those arrows for the Crown. She agreed and they were simply on the same page regarding her view on her actions. The only other person to tell her any warrior would have done the same thing was Sir Faleron, who firmly believed any warrior worth his career would have taken those arrows. No one else agreed with the three of them and Gwen didn't need them to, but it helped having some people to laugh with in her head while the world fussed.

Roald ignored the whispers and beckoned to Gwen. She extracted herself from her seat, took her tray to be cleaned, and then bowed to Roald in the correct manner. She might be able to joke with him and ignore volumes of protocol when they were alone, but this was public and she knew her place. Roald didn't seem to be put off at her formality so she guessed she had assumed her place correctly and followed Roald out into the hall.

"Perhaps next time I will have you meet me where there is less of an audience," Roald told her as he led her to the royal armory. "I swear I saw Padraig roll his eyes."

"You did, Highness," Gwen confirmed. "He doesn't like the fuss any more than I do, Highness."

"It's probably a good thing you didn't complete your terms at the Convent. You would have made a terrible lady," Roald kept a straight face as he steered her around another corner. "Every lady I've had the pleasure of meeting from our Convent seems to love gossip and fuss. I saw one lady fuss for a whole hour over the folds in her gown only to have them end where they started, with her completely satisfied that she had 'fixed' them."

"That's nothing. When I was at the Convent there was a lady there almost ready to leave for Court to be presented who insisted on waking up three hours before dawn so she could spend that time fussing over her hair before breakfast. And, oh, if someone mentioned a single strand was out of place it would send her in a very brisk, lady-like walk back to her rooms to spend another half hour mending it." Gwen laughed at the memory. "The sad thing was that the Daughters at the Convent praised her for it and told the rest of us that we should be so meticulous about our looks."

"I know which lady you are talking about," Roald informed her. "She tried to get Sir Faleron to court her."

"That's interesting. I mean, every lady at the Convent knows that Sir Faleron…" she trailed off realizing she was repeating gossip about Roald's best friend to him.

"Sir Faleron…" Roald pressed.

"Well, the Convent isn't the credentials Sir Faleron will be looking for for a proper lady. Yes for most of nobility it is, but Sir Faleron's own mother hand picks and trains the few she deems as elite ladies. He would certainly have his pick of any of those ladies rather than a plain old Convent lady." She blushed as she said it.

"Were you considered for the Countess of King's Reach's training?" Roald asked sounding intrigued.

"I don't believe I met the criteria to even be considered in the first place. My family fief is only a Barony and we aren't a very wealthy one at that. Beyond that, I don't like fuss." She frowned remembering her older sister had tried hard to get the Countess of King's Reach to notice her and she had been crushed when she had been overlooked.

"So was it fussing that sent you running for the page training program at twelve?" Roald asked as he finally directed her into the armory.

"No, it was the Daughters' and the other ladies' response to me practically drowning myself to save a commoner's child. It seems that saving a life is frowned on when one can't be pretty while doing it." Gwen stepped up on the pedestal that she was directed towards and let the man working in the armory measure her. Roald gave his instructions to what he wanted made up for her. "And a proper shield," she added when he finished. "A proper Conte shield." She returned Roald's smile.

"I told you that you would have to remind me," he admitted ruefully as they left the armory.

"Well, now you know that I will. Now what about how you plan to continue my studies…"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to those reviewing the story, following, favoriting, and going back and reading, and favoriting my other stories. And one special note to** **oz1dke: I wanted to assure you that I got your sarcasm and humor the first time and understood it completely. I appreciate your wanting more chapters. I plan to write more. Plan being the key word. Thank you for your encouragement.**

"How are things going with the new squire? Any reason to go back to your 'I don't have time for a squire right now'?" Roald looked up from his paperwork at the asker. Sir Faleron of King's Reach was nursing a goblet full of wine and was looking over some papers of his own. Roald's other friends were pretending to be absorbed in their own work but not very convincingly. Of course Roald knew it was Faleron that had asked and the others simply wanted to hear what he would say. He had, after all, managed to keep Gwen away from their nightly gatherings so she wouldn't feel obligated to serve while she was still injured. Not that he would ever hear the end of it from Neal if she reopened one of her chest wounds because she had to carry a pitcher and cups all night.

Before the Midsummer Ball Roald had been adamant that he had no time whatsoever for a squire. And he had been correct. He had had to think of such things each year when the Big Exams rolled around and his friends considered taking squires. Each year since he had been knighted the answer became more and more solidly a 'no' to having the time to do justice to training a squire properly. His parents were entrusting more and more of the realm's work to him. He met with royal advisors, attended council meetings, entertained diplomats, and started to put together his own advisors. And that was on top of being a husband, a father, a sibling, a son, and a friend. He didn't have time to add a squire that required constant attention and education. He barely had time to keep up on his physical training, which Gwen had proven and Faleron and Neal had berated him for. Now he was supposed to be in charge of her physical training as well as her continued mental education all while trying to instill the values of a knight in her? He really didn't have the time.

His father and friends, as well as other random knights, tried to convince him multiple times over that a squire made things easier. He would have less eventually once a squire was in place and trained to help him. And he knew there were many knights who took on squires just to use them for the extra hands. But Roald had been trained by a true knight, Sir Imrah of Legann. He owed it to a squire to train him or her to their maximum potential. And he knew his own circle of friends, his father, and his father's circle of friends wouldn't blame him for being a mediocre knight master but they wouldn't appreciate it either. None of them were anything short of excellent in their areas of expertise and nothing short of amazing as teachers in those areas. If he couldn't offer excellence to his squire then he didn't deserve to take them from someone who could train them properly.

But then again, after he had told Gwen he needed to be reminded of what duties he owed to her, she had taken on the lion's share of planning out her education. She was there in the mornings with her books and her slate. He didn't even know where she got the formulas she worked out on his mathematics slate. How many bowstrings did a commander need for x number of people in y condition for z amount of time? And the books? She seemed to be spot on for what a squire should be reading, or a squire in his or her final year.

"I think, and I'm just guessing here as she is still recovering, that I won't have much of a reason to claim I don't have the time." Roald grinned. Myles had approached him earlier that day regarding Gwen's poking around for information on the Tusaine diplomats that he would be meeting with. Where she had heard that was one of his current focuses he would never guess because it was fairly hushed up and he certainly hadn't mentioned the meetings to her, but she was already trying to make herself useful without pressuring him.

"And what happens if suddenly there is no time at all?" Neal pressed. "Who are you going to shove her education on?" That Neal was protective of Gwen came as no shock to Roald. She was his patient and as his patient, he viewed it as his prerogative to guard her. Once she was fully healed and he didn't have to check on her often, his protectiveness would fade. It happened with almost all of Neal's extended care patients. The only people that could be fully healed and still be on Neal's protection list were Kel, his wife, and his daughter. So until Gwen was healed, she was being guarded by Neal whether she knew it or not. The odds of Neal being protective of her if Roald ever did find his duties to her to be overwhelming were slim, but the odds of Neal throwing in an 'I told you so' were much higher.

"Gwen and I will talk about it if that time should ever come," Roald drained his cup of cider. "Right now, I don't see that time coming. I mean, I still have time to sit amongst the lot of you." And he did, it was something he did every night. It wasn't exactly purely social time as almost every single one of them had work to deal with. Roald was never without paperwork and he knew Kel almost always had paperwork from the King's Own though she was in no official position. He got less work done than he would have with extra time in his own study but it was the only good time for them to spend together. His work didn't suffer all that much by it.

"You could bring Gwen you know," Faleron added. "This would be a good time for you to work on her intellectual education. And if you are busy with something else, I can always assist. Right now I'd rather be doing anything but this."

"Thank you, Fal, but Gwen takes her squire duties seriously. Until she can do an actual service during this time, she won't be allowed near this room. And as for her intellectual education, we work on that during the morning right now." Roald explained. "I let her have this time to herself and we may keep it that way."

"And what papers are you working on that have no ranking in your priorities?" Sir Merric of Hollyrose demanded once everyone acknowledged what Roald had said. As Faleron's cousin he did more teasing of Faleron than anyone else.

"Mother has sent me yet more descriptions of ladies she thinks I should court. I'm apparently starting to get to that age where she has decided I need to marry and give her grandchildren." Faleron sighed.

"You are twenty-four. Clearly you need a push." Sir Seaver of Tasride reached over and stole one of the papers. "How about Lady Isabelle? She can play the lap harp and flute. She enjoys embroidery. And has quite the dowry."

"You're not helping," Faleron growled.

"As if this group was ever helpful in matters of the heart," Neal threw an arm out dramatically and caught Gwen as she stepped through the door in the arm. As suddenly as Neal realized who he had hit he was on his feet with his hands glowing dark emerald green.

"I'm fine," she told Neal attempting to shrug him off.

"I thought I told you to take this time for yourself," Roald only glanced up to see who it was before he went back to his paperwork.

"And you know I'm all for following your orders," Gwen started. Roald was certain that he detected a hint of sarcasm in her voice but he would never get her to admit to it. "Lord Padraig requested that I deliver this to you as it is my duty as your squire to handle your messages and there is no reason I cannot run messages." As she stepped forward he realized she was completely out of uniform wearing a pair of green breeches and a thin cotton gray shirt with her hair dark hair hanging down to her chest in waves rather than her normal knot at the back of her head. After she was no longer on bed rest she had always been in her uniform either palace of Conte and had always had her hair up. It was a testament that she truly hadn't been expecting to disobey his orders.

"Well then, what's the message?" Roald looked up at her face and saw her smile before handing over the sealed note. He opened it while she waited, standing nearby but not hovering.

"Gwen, how are your studies going?" Faleron drew her away.

"How did you do with those formulas I gave you?" Kel asked before Gwen could answer.

"Very well, Lady Knight. I appreciate that you took time to write them down for me." Gwen blushed when Roald looked up at her in surprise. Gwen had gone to Kel for mathematics. Perhaps she didn't think Roald had time to write out equations for her in the morning. Or perhaps this was more of her taking her education into her own hands. But he certainly didn't want Kel, of all the by the book people, to think he was shirking his duty to his squire.

"Stop by the Own's training grounds tomorrow, I'll have some more. I asked Captain Domitan of Third Company to get me copies of his supply sheets." Kel patted the empty chair next to her. "My Lord will say it and I will too, none of the other Captains in the Own fill out a supply sheet so well."

"And Captain Domitan doesn't mind making copies?" Gwen asked, looking at the floor as she edged closer to Kel.

"Sir Raoul uses his supply sheets as examples all of the time. He's used to it. I'll write the formulas on the sheet so you know how he got to his answers." Kel assured her.

"Thank you, Gwen, there will be no return note. You may resume your free time." Roald informed her. Immediately Gwen bowed and left the room.

"That sounded like a royal order rather than how you addressed her coming in," Neal pointed out.

"Kel, Gwen asked you for mathematics instruction?" Roald ignored the comment and turned his attention fully on Kel.

"Not exactly," Kel set down her work and turned to look at Roald. "She happened to be by the Own's practice courts watching some of their training. I went over to talk to her and she asked what I do for the Own now. We talked about supply lists and she started asking questions about how I figure out what's needed. The current Master in the mathematics room doesn't explain any practical applications of the algebra he has them working through."

"So you just thought you'd help her on her mathematics?" Roald pressed.

"I thought I'd answer her questions and give her answers related to supply lists. Roald you aren't exactly in a position to teach her such things." Kel sighed when Roald's face clouded over. "I mean, not only are you exceptionally busy but you don't deal in supply lists and daily uses of mathematics in those kinds of terms. You deal with the big stuff like food for the population and treasury spending. This is small stuff compared to that." Kel started to gather her things. "And I'm not teaching, I'm supplying examples and formulas and letting her figure it out on her own."

"I'm sorry, Kel," Roald stood to stop her. "I just feel like it appears I'm shirking my duty to her already. I certainly don't wish any of you to believe that."

"We don't. I've said this once before to Kel and now I'll say it to you. You are the only one who expects you to be perfect. It's daunting to the rest of us you know." Neal gathered up his own books. "And now I must retire to see my darling Yamani Blossom and Bud."

"I'm sure Karin loves being called Yamani Bud," Faleron added as he picked up his own paperwork. "And so you are aware, not that I plan on taking over her teaching in any way or that I believe you are shirking your duty, but I found Gwen in one of the libraries the other day and she happened to ask about good books for her learning level since she knew I liked to read."

"Of course she did," Roald waved to the rest of his friends making their way towards the door. Once one person left, everyone did. It was just how things worked. At least Roald had an answer now to how Gwen was working her education on her own. She was getting suggestions from his friends by casually questioning them on their favorite subjects. He wouldn't doubt if by the time Neal was done with her healing that she wouldn't have worked a few herb books, a healers guide, and at least one or two romance novels into her bookshelf.

Gwen was smart, crafty, and quiet about all of it. Roald couldn't have picked a better squire if he had had real intentions of actually picking a squire in the first place. That was something for him to smile about as he set aside his paper work for the night and took out a slate to start writing the mathematical formulas used by the Crown to calculate the cost of Court, War, and Festival Days. If Gwen wanted to learn the mathematics of royalty he would share it with her. He suspected she would be interested.


	5. Chapter 5

Roald was waiting for Gwen the next morning when she came into the room carrying her own books and slate. She barely looked up to greet him as she set about making herself a spot at the table in his study. Since she had started to join him in his study and he had told her to remind him of his duties, she had brought her own work and made herself as unobtrusive as possible. It didn't seem like she believed this day would be any different so Roald went to join her at the table and set his work slate in front of her. "I told you to remind me of my duties to you," he warned her. In truth she had reminded him, practically slapped him with them, by talking to his friends and weaseling information and training out of them.

"Highness, I know you're busy." Gwen told him calmly. "I can learn on my own and leave you as much work time as possible. That is why I didn't remind you."

"Fair enough, I'm busy we've established that. What we haven't established, my dear Squire, is my role in your education. That is something I should have explained right away and did not do my part on." Roald sighed and settled in. He had a thousand and one things he was supposed to be doing and he had to make them all look less important than his squire or she would go on believing he was too busy to be a proper knight master. "What I'm sure you know already is that you won't get a traditional squire's knowledge with me. I don't have a chance to leave the palace often and I'm, well how was that put, not allowed to risk my crowned royal bum by actually doing my knight duties. If you want to go on a patrol or out on a call with the Own or Riders, we can try and arrange that. If you want to work out a schedule so that you perhaps get your practical field education during summer months when court life is at a minimum, we can do that. Just say the word." He met her eyes and when she said nothing he continued. "But you will get a lot of time in at meetings, serving. I'll want to hear your observations later and we'll have to educate you on who will be in those meetings. I'm going to enlist Sir Myles in getting you names, descriptions, and backgrounds on who will be in those meetings so you can observe accurately. You'll see a lot of parties. Once again, you will be serving. But I can also use your eyes to look for potential dangers. I already know you have a decent eye for such things." He invited her to smile with his own and she obliged. "And you'll assist with the mountain of paperwork I'm dealing with now. However, before we get to that point, you have to know the formulas I use on a daily basis and why I use them. So let's start with this one," he leaned over and pointed at the top formula and began to explain its intended use and the real world problem it fit to.

He expected Gwen to try and fight him and tell him to that she could learn them on her own and he should return to his work. But she didn't. She focused on the lesson with attention he was certain that her masters as a page were spoiled by. She asked intelligent questions and asked for clarification when she was confused. She rephrased his words to make sure his concepts were translating properly. And she was quick to grasp onto his use of the formulas. By the time Roald was done with his planned lesson, he was surprised to see the sun was high in the sky out of the window and it was time for Midday.

"What about physical training?" Gwen asked as they wrapped up.

"Once Sir Neal clears you, you and I will find time together," Roald assured her.

"Your Highness?" Gwen asked as she gathered up her books and slate into her arms.

"Yes, Gwen?" Roald was already returning to his desk.

She waited a moment and then set her books down. "I'll go fetch us midday to take in here. We can start on whatever you were supposed to be doing with your morning." She bowed and was gone before he could respond.

"Your education was what I was supposed to be working on this morning," he retorted to the closed door. Even if she didn't hear, it was good for him to say it out loud. He needed to hear it as much she probably needed to hear it.

Gwen was still in his study with him when the door opened to admit his friends. Roald looked up surprised to see them. They usually didn't arrive until the eighth bell after midday and there was no way he and Gwen had sat at his desk all day working that long. Had they? Looking out the window he noticed it was getting dark which wouldn't happen in the summer months until well after dinner. He and Gwen had worked through the entire afternoon and dinner without even realizing it. Looking over now he saw that Gwen was so absorbed in crunching the numbers of the report in her hands that she hadn't even noticed the company.

"I believe we've missed dinner," Roald announced to Gwen as he took her slate from her. Gwen blinked for a moment and then looked around to see the others and out the window as Roald had done.

"Oh, I suppose we have." She stood and straightened her chair and tidied her work area. "Shall I bring you something? You can't afford to skip meals."

"Neither can you," Roald smiled and nodded to his friends so they knew they could indeed be there. "Why don't you bring us both something back? Unless you would prefer to have some time to yourself?"

"I'll be right back," Gwen assured him, bowed, and left the room.

"You two worked through dinner?" Neal demanded after she was well gone.

"I didn't even realize that much time had passed." Roald shook his head. "It turns out neither of us are good at paying attention to time when it comes to work."

"Did you two at least make a dent?" Faleron asked.

"A dent enough we can do her lessons in the mornings for a week and not have to work through eating tonight." Roald smiled. "I doubt as a first year squire I would have sat through that much reading and number crunching without complaining. I'm a bit surprised actually that she did."

"Well I for one…" Neal started but Owen cut him off.

"We all know if you so much as complained Sir Alanna would have sharpened her tongue on you. But you probably complained anyway." Owen's response got a wave of laughter followed by Neal making a rude gesture to the entire room which in response only got more laughter.

"Do you need help clearing off a space to eat?" Faleron asked, standing up again to round the desk. After a moment he picked up one of the papers and frowned at it. "Roald, is this what you have her working on or is this what you are working on?"

"Both. Why?" Roald took the paper to look it over and shrugged before setting it in its proper pile.

"This is stuff your Prime Minister will do. You'll have clerks and magistrates to work on this kind of paper work for you." Faleron picked up another piece and scanned it over too. "I mean, your parents don't spend any time at all on these papers other than to listen to the condensed report of them during one meeting a month. They have other things they are supposed to be doing. Shouldn't you be learning those other things?"

"My parents insist that I learn how to do all of this stuff so when I take the throne I'm not crippled by having no way to check in the information for myself should my council or staff be traitorous, incompetent, or absent altogether." Roald pointed out. "I've been doing this will all of the paperwork of the realm since the Scanran War ended." He sighed.

"Interesting concept. Will you ever be at a point where you don't have paperwork before you're crowned?" Neal asked.

"I doubt it but my parents believe I'll be exploring other duties of a King soon enough. Nothing that will take me away from the palace ever." He frowned at the neat piles of paper and then looked up at Faleron. "Fal, Gwen isn't going to get and practical field training from me. I'm practically bound to the palace unless I run away. Something my parents, wife, and son wouldn't forgive me for, even if it was to uphold my duty to train my squire. What I'm getting at is, if you happen to have a patrol, a call, a mission, anything where you can offer her some practical experience, would you take her with you for a while?"

"You know that I'll help any way I can." Faleron grinned.

"I thought we weren't deciding on that until _we _discussed it. It certainly didn't sound like the royal We when you told me that it was something we had to talk about." Gwen's voice made Roald grin too. She was getting bolder and soon she'd be on the same level as his friends as not be afraid to disagree with him or push his buttons. It was good they were reaching this before any sort of physical training because Gwen would probably, like most others in the palace, hesitate to injure the heir to the throne and not actually work on her weapons skills properly.

"You and I will discuss it if and when something comes up when you can actually join Sir Faleron. It would be silly for you and I to discuss it at a later time and miss opportunities." Roald stepped aside for her to set down a tray of pitchers and cups. "I thought you were getting some dinner, not drinks for the entire room." He frowned at her.

"I went down to the kitchens and explained that His Highness and myself, his squire, missed dinner. The servants told me they would bring it up when they had something adequate enough for His Highness. Before they could shove me out of the door completely I thought I should do something a proper squire does and at least bring the drink service."

"They're all capable of coming to get their own drinks. There is no need for you to serve at this time of night to this group when we are sitting in here, ever." Roald informed her. "And let's be clear. You will never do a formal dinner service outside of feasts and dinner meetings. You will not wait on me tonight. Do I make myself clear, Squire Gwendolyn?"

"Clear as a sunny day, your Highness," Gwen was smiling as she said it and he knew she was being pert but he didn't care. It was important they both understand the ground rules when it came to such things. Roald knew there were knight masters who would make their squires as personal slaves. They served at every meal. They laid out their knight master's clothes for the next day. They were awake first to prepare everything and asleep last to make sure their knight master needed nothing before bed. Those were the kinds of knights Roald wanted to do away with. Those were this kinds of so called 'training' Roald wanted to do away with.

He had been vocal about it once, at one of the council meetings where someone had brought up that slavery existed in no form in Tortall. He had come back with explanations of indentured servants of which a squire pretty much was. The only difference between a squire and a true servant was the squire would be free in four years whether they became a knight or not. A servant, when they reached the end of their contract, could really only look forward to being a servant again because they made so little money, their masters or mistresses kept the lion's share of any additional income, and the noble society didn't want them to rise any higher if they could help it. Roald wanted to fix all of that. He wanted to adjust the standards of how a servant, how a squire, was treated. But when he had mentioned these things in that meeting, he had been met with such anger and resistance from so much of the room that he had quieted down, but had not forgotten.

It reminded him that his attempted assassin, the one that had shot Gwen instead of him at the Midsummer Ball, had been Tortallan. No doubt he had been hired by one of the fiefs that didn't want a King that was part Saranite and part K'miri, that was married to a full blooded Yamani and putting out a line that was only a quarter Tortallan by blood who was as Progressive as his own parents had been. Had anyone told Gwen that his attempted killer, her actual attacker, had been Tortallan? Had she received any of that information? The man had committed suicide before the realm's Spymasters had been able to get him to say who he worked for. The only message he had given was that he had been doing it 'For the Good of Tortall'. He would need to find a time to bring it up to her. This moment, when they were surrounded by people that would be outraged and start coming up with conspiracy theories, when they were about to eat dinner, when they were just starting to relax for the day, was certainly not the time in which he should bring it up. But he would have to tell her soon. She would have to know that it probably wasn't foreign diplomats that she should be the most concerned about protecting him from but blue-blooded Tortallans.

If Gwen guessed at any of his thoughts, she said nothing as the dinner cart arrived and she made proper places for both of them to eat and setting up their trays and cups in front of their chairs. When he caught her eye she grinned. "I'm not serving you. I'm setting places. That's something decent people do for each other. Don't like it? Bite me."

Roald couldn't help himself, he started to laugh outright. Gwen was a comfort to be around just as much as any of his friends. She learned fast both socially and intellectually. And she would hold her ground just fine when they disagreed.

"Well then, what would you prefer to drink?" Roald poured himself a cup of cider and then waited for her to make her choice before he poured her drink.

"Roald, you can pour me some tea," Seaver called from his couch. "Since you're serving and all."

"You can use your own legs and arms," Roald winked at Gwen and took his seat.

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews. It's been very encouraging! I truly enjoy hearing your feedback and reviews make me want to keep writing. I'm honored and humbled by those who are following, favoriting, and reviewing my story. I am truly humbled by those who favorite me as an author. Thank You all for being just so awesome!**


	6. Chapter 6

Gwen leaned on the fence that faced the archery lanes as the sun rose above the tree tops. Roald had told her they didn't need to do lessons every morning. Without other lessons planned, she had free time. And not all free time needed to be spent indoors reading. The lanes were empty at this time of morning. Most knights and squires preferred to practice archery later in the day due to the sun being at their backs, not glaring into their eyes.

Archery was her strong suit in weapons. It was her favorite. But that was simply because she was a Merrywood. Merrywood was a woodland fief that relied on bows and crossbows as main weapons. Swords and polearms were hardly used because a competent archer wouldn't let anyone or anything get that close. Lances were just silly. The use of lances in such an environment saw one running into trees rather than into targets. Every child at Merrywood knew how to wield a bow. Every child was trained in one from the first time they could hold a bow regardless of gender, especially since the Immortals had become a true problem. Spidren were easily their worst vicious immortal with the trees as their preferred mode of transportation and hiding. And bows were the best weapon against those terrifying half spider and half man beings.

Gwen ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her she was good with a bow because she had an aptitude that had been nurtured since she was five. Her own sister could use a bow but she only hit the target half of the time. Chances were if she were to wander out into the woods alone, she wouldn't be able to do more than injure a spidren. But that wasn't a problem as she never wandered out into the woods. Gwen's sister, Aurelia, was two years older and the very definition of a lady. She did not go hiking in the woods without a proper escort and she had probably stopped practicing her survival skills the moment she had been deemed a proper lady by convent standards.

Really, the two of them couldn't be more different. While they shared a bone structure, Aurelia was strawberry blonde with brown eyes and Gwen had dark brown, almost black hair, with blue eyes. They had been at the Convent together for two years but Aurelia hadn't spent any time with her there. They shared no interests and they were in two different years. She didn't like all of the fuss her sister was into anyway.

"Do you want to shoot?" A voice startled her out of her thoughts. When she turned to look at the speaker she saw Prince Roald standing dressed shockingly in a plain canvas practice shirt and sturdy, worn, black breeches. She was so startled by his very normal, unroyal, practice clothes that she completely missed the unstrung bow and quiver of arrows in his hand. It took her another moment to get over her shock and remember what he had said.

"I'm not allowed, you remember that." She sighed and pushed off of the railing.

"That would be the case had Sir Neal not approached me to tell me that you are perfectly all healed up and ready to start training again." Roald held up the bow for her to see. It was her bow. A gift from her parents made of osage wood. She loved the golden orange color of it. It reminded her of sunlight and marigold flowers.

"I can really start training again? He's not going to come after either of us later tonight?" Gwen asked her hand already inching towards the polished, glowing wood.

Roald grinned widely. "Do you really believe I would set him upon either of us? No one deserves that." He put the bow into her questioning hand and handed over the oil paper envelope that held the coil of bow string she preferred. "Now let's see what you can do. I heard you're quite the shot from Lord Padraig."

They worked slow over the rest of the morning, testing her limits after her four week break from training. She found that Roald was a good teacher in weapons. He acknowledged her strengths and pointed out small fixes for her weaknesses. Each time she mastered one of his small suggestions, he'd add another. It made things easier to work in small steps rather than to change everything one did right away. The body learned to adjust and with the steps it had a harder time reverting back too far.

"Where is everyone?" Gwen asked looking around the courts as time neared midday and they were still deserted.

"They are inside hiding from the heat no doubt. It's hot enough to fry bacon on a rock," Roald told her looking amused. "I'm a little shocked you aren't complaining."

Gwen turned to look at Roald and realized his shirt and hair were plastered to his skin. It was desperately hot but she really hadn't noticed. Her own clothes and hair were plastered with sweat. "I suppose it's a little warm out." She shrugged and smiled as she tugged her shirt away from her stomach.

"Baths before we have midday, I think. Then we have some things to discuss after we eat. We'll be in meetings all afternoon, I'm afraid." Roald started to lead the way back towards the palace.

"Sure, pound me to a pulp all morning, and then make me serve all afternoon," she teased.

"Actually, Gwen," Roald paused and put a hand on her shoulder. "You won't be serving at these meetings today. You'll be attending the meetings." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I know no one has told you what was found out about the assassination attempt on my life. They probably thought you didn't need to know though you're the one who sacrificed yourself for me, and you know I simply just didn't remember to talk to you about what information we had. Well now there's a little more information and I need to be briefed on it. And as my squire, and the woman who saved my life, you deserve to be properly briefed too."

The tub water was cool against her skin as she sat in her second bath of the day. Her fingers traced the thin patch of smooth, white skin that stretched one inch beneath her left collarbone. On their own will, her fingers moved over to the second scarred circle just over her left breast, and then down to the third scar a hand width under the same breast. Her hands had been tracing the scars on their own accord for the last hour without her consciously thinking about what they were doing.

The meetings had ended several hours ago and she had eaten in the company of those in the meetings. Sir Myles, Baron George Cooper, King Jonathon, Queen Thayet, Princess Shinkokami, Duke Baird, Lord Imrah of Legann, Lord Raoul, Commander Evin Larse, and all three Captains from the Own including Captain Domitan all sat around a table with servants feeding them. She was silent, thinking over the information. Roald had told her to take the night off after she had finished dinner. From the looks of pity everyone had tossed her way as she left, she supposed they thought she was traumatized. And she probably had every right to be.

But she wasn't traumatized. She was simply thinking. Thinking about that moment she dropped the tray and shoved Roald back. Thinking about the moments on that gray road to the moment she had pressed forward though the decision to live felt like the most painful thing in the world. Thinking about how when she woke she was prepared to die as a traitor for any damage she herself had caused to the Crowned Prince. Thinking about how she never thought about the man that had shot her by mistake or the man, or woman, that had hired him to do such a terrible thing. Thinking about why she hadn't thought about it before.

Perhaps she hadn't wanted to know what sort of monsters people could truly be. As a knight it was her duty to recognize there were human monsters too, but it was hard to believe people could do such things without a just cause. Or perhaps it was because she didn't want to believe they had a just cause. Before she had been his squire, she had thought Roald was kind and would be a good king, if not a little more reserved than his father. After she had become his squire she was certain he'd make an excellent king. He was intelligent, witty, gentle, and strong. Who would believe it was a just cause to end that sort of future for Tortall? Apparently at least one Lord of one of the fiefdoms believed Roald shouldn't be their future.

And what about the assassin? She heard he had died, committed suicide rather than talk. Did he not have a family that would miss him? She supposed not because it was practically suicide to turn a weapon against a member of the Crown. He must have believed in his cause too. Someone who didn't believe in the cause and was only in it for the money would be a sad person who didn't realize they were being paid to go to a death sentence. Did his employer feel bad he was dead, or perhaps whoever had hired him was happy that a loose end had been tied up? Baron George had presented that idea. But if the man that had been hired was a loose end, what did that make Gwen? A threat that needed to be neutralized or eliminated in the future, the Captain of First Company of the Own had said before someone had shushed him.

But the fact was, she wasn't worried that her life could still be on the line. She was slightly worried about Roald's life being on the line. But mostly she was worried that there was someone out there with so little regard for life. That they didn't see life, only pieces on a chess board to be moved about and disposed of at their will. It made her sick really and cold in her core. Most disturbing of all, was that this human monster had money, power, and access to all they needed to easily dispatch life.

"Squire Gwendolyn?" Her door was open just a crack and the voice that came through belonged to Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak.

"Give me a moment," she called back. She had expected someone to come earlier than this. She had expected Roald but he hadn't come. Looking back she saw the door had closed and with a sigh she got out of the water and dried off. When she was dried and dressed, she went to the door and opened it to admit the giant that was the Knight Commander of the King's Own. "How can I help you Sir?" She asked, tilting her head almost all of the way back to look up into his face.

"I wanted to apologize on behalf of my idiotic Commander of First Company. He learned under Glaisdan of Haryse and doesn't realize that people might be sensitive to such utterances." Raoul frowned as he looked at the bath. "Did I interrupt your bath? I'm sorry. I didn't think what you might be doing."

"No, I was getting out. And I'm okay. He didn't say anything I didn't guess on my own." She shrugged.

"You were fairly silent during the meetings and well after," Raoul observed.

"Absorbed in my own thoughts, I guess," she sat down on her bed and her hands started to follow the pattern of scars now hidden under her shirt. "Sir, how do people care so little for their fellow man?"

"Like I said he wasn't thinking when he spoke…"

"No, I didn't mean the Captain. I meant, how could someone be responsible for paying for an assassination knowing that at worst, the assassin will die, or at best, the target and the assassin will die. And more likely, many others will be hurt or killed in between. How does someone do that and not feel the burden of those deaths?"

"Ah," Raoul pulled out her desk chair and gave her a sad smile. "Some people are raised to forget that life is precious. Should we, as humans, ever forget life is precious as a whole population we would cease to exist. But that is why we have priests and priestesses. They remind people what the Gods have to say about our carelessness. And that is why we had laws to regulate and punish the actions that lead to loss of life. And we certainly have people out there defending lives." He pointed to her armor rack to indicate she was one of them.

"Are we really any better if we take lives in the process?" Her eyes focused on the weapons rack. Raoul saw the rack representing Protection. Gwen saw the rack representing Death.

"It's a delicate balance we must walk. The lives we save have to be more than the lives we take. And in the end, the Black God will be the permanent reminder that life is precious. He will teach those in death what they failed to recognize in life." Raoul stood. "So…you are not traumatized?"

"Not by the Incident, Sir," she stood too and followed him to the door. When the door closed Gwen locked it and turned to look at the mirror she had hung above her desk. "But I think I'll do a thorough check of the room before I go to bed. Just in case."


	7. Chapter 7

Autumn began late as the summer heat had dragged on through to the end of September and into the beginning of October. It was because of such a strange delay in the seasons, and the birth of his second child, that Roald woke up one morning and realized that all of summer was long gone and that the diplomatic meetings scheduled for all of fall were prepared to start the next week.

Roald had been well prepared for the fact that Tusaine's diplomats were coming to discuss some areas of unrest. Historically they came to discuss the ownership of the Drell River and the valley that surrounded it. It was the same point of contention that had been brought up every ten years or so since the last war with Tusaine. His father had managed to talk them down from war the last two times without conceding any land. But now King Jonathon was letting Roald handle this alone. It would be his fault if war resulted or any land loss happened. He would be responsible for all of it. Jonathon had already informed him that there would be no one stepping in. He needed to learn how to handle the situation as if he were already King.

If Roald hadn't learned to appreciate Gwen since taking her on four months back he would have learned it now. Gwen's ability to read him and his needs like an instruction manual had his tea ready because he could ask, meals and snacks ordered up before he could forget, and the papers he needed in his hand exactly when he needed them. She kept a light heart as she prodded him and cajoled him into eating and drinking while he worked. And she reminded him of his duty to her exercises by dragging him outside when he was beginning to get cabin fever in his own study.

"I thought I'd find you still working," Gwen's voice made Roald look up from his work. Neal and Faleron sat with him, helping him with suggestions of their own while they worked on their papers. They concealed smiles behind hands as they spotted Gwen standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips looking the picture of a mother who caught her child misbehaving. A smile played on Gwen's lips though she tried to maintain a straight face.

"The meetings start tomorrow," Roald reminded her. "I'm just trying to get ready."

"Uh huh," Gwen went over to the drink service cart and began to make some tea. "You've read all of those papers at least twenty time over and you won't be any good if you work yourself to death before the meetings." She informed him. "And it won't look good to the diplomats if you can't concentrate because you are too tired or you are asleep on the table. They'll think you're bored by their talks."

"But I will be bored. Anyone in their right might in that room will be bored." Roald sighed.

"But you cannot appear to be so, whether you are or not. Weren't you the one who told me to get to bed early tonight so I can be awake for the morning?" Gwen turned and put a cup of tea on his desk. "Drink, it will help." Roald only chuckled and took the cup into his hands. It smelled of lavender and chamomile. It was the standard for relaxation and sleep teas. He took a sip to find it was just the right temperature to drink the whole thing down quickly. He hated the taste of chamomile in tea and it was best to just get it over with. When he set the cup down he felt his mind start to cloud and his eyes start to droop.

"What did you give me?" His words sounds muffled in his own ears.

"A sleep draught provided by your mother and wife," Gwen told as he slipped into sleep.

"Did you just drug the Crowned Prince of Tortall?" Sir Faleron asked when Gwen went to straighten the papers on his desk.

"Certainly," Gwen shrugged. "The general consensus was he would he wouldn't get any sleep if we allowed him to keep working or he'd be restless all night if we took his work from him."

"And you couldn't leave it for his wife? Or someone that could get away with it without getting in trouble?" Sir Neal asked, standing to inspect Roald's now sleeping form. "How do we know you didn't poison him instead?"

"Here's the vial. If you would like to question Her Majesty and Her Highness about the origins of the vial, they will direct you to your own father. As it's just a sleeping draught, I have reason to believe he will pardon me for my actions in the morning." Gwen left the empty vial in Neal's hands and turned to finish straightening the desk.

"And do you propose to leave him at his desk all night?" Faleron asked her.

"Not at all. The aches he'd have from that would be just as bad as not sleeping. There are guards coming to help move him but it will be a bit." She smiled. "They thought it would take me longer to get him to drink the tea."

"No need to have guards, Neal and I are quite capable." Faleron waved her out from behind the desk and she stood by while he and Neal lifted Roald and carried him out of the room. She resumed organizing the papers once they were gone, making sure that everything was in the correct order for Roald to find it tomorrow once the meetings began. She would not be able to lean over his shoulder and dig through the stacks to help him. Her job, once the meetings began, was to serve drinks, food, and to listen to everything. Her eyes needed to be everywhere and her ears taking in every scrap of conversation that happened even in moments when they thought no one was listening.

"I know I'll feel better rested when this fall is done," Sir Faleron announced as he came back into the room. Gwen looked up and smiled at him.

"So you can get right to all of the pretty ladies at Midwinter?" She teased.

"Mostly so these meetings are done," Faleron rolled his eyes at her. "I'm sure you know that Sir Neal, myself, and the Lady Knight will all be in with Roald during these meetings."

"I did know that. I've been memorizing seating charts and menu preferences for the last month." Gwen knew they would be attending as Roald's council. Each had been hand picked for their knowledge. Faleron was an expert on laws. Neal was an expert on history. And Kel, well, Kel was a born diplomat herself while also being a bolster to Roald's credit as the Protector of the Small. After the Scanran War had ended and King Maggur dealt with, the true story had been published as to what happened to the Killing Devices and their creator. All of Tortall knew Kel's name and the names of companions while also knowing very few of them actually enjoyed the attention that came with everyone knowing. Outside of the country, the published manuscripts of the reports had reportedly reached as far as Sarain. "Why wasn't Lady Kel here tonight?"

"I believe Captain Domitan convinced her sleep would be more beneficial to her time," Faleron grinned. "I think Lord Raoul is going to try and escape with Third Company while the diplomats are here so I think he had other motives to drawing her away tonight."

"Has his Highness shown you how these are organized? You sit on his right so you will be in the best position to help should he misplace something."

"Yes, we've been over it. Honestly, you two fuss over the same things," Faleron gave her a silly grin. "It's been less than a year and I fear to think of how in tune you two will after four years together." He gave a pretend shiver. "Do I need to get something to drug you too or will you go to bed on your own?"

"I'll go to sleep on my own." She raised her hands in surrender. "I just don't want him upset that I disrupted his work and he didn't have time to put it in order."

"If you get up early enough you should join us in the morning before the meetings," Faleron gathered up his own things. "If not, make sure you eat breakfast. The odds of you getting more than a sip of water are slim to none. I used to serve at some of these types of meetings before. Even at Midday you won't get a real break."

"Thank you for the advice, Sir Faleron. I'll keep that in mind. Now I should go to bed before you decide I need to be drugged as well. Good night." Gwen bowed and left the room.

In the morning the sun hadn't even risen when Faleron yawned his way back into the study. He had expected to be the first one there in order to get a small breakfast set up before the others arrived. Instead the candles were already lit and the light and the food cart had already arrived. The culprit wasn't Gwen, as Faleron had expected, but instead Roald looking fresh after a night of drugged sleep.

"I invited Gwen to join us if she woke up early enough," Faleron managed to get out between yawns. Roald's response was to set out another cup. "Perhaps I should make sure you don't pour her cup."

"Ha… ha… you're so funny." Roald rolled his eyes. "I have tea here. Strong tea."

"And what's in that?" Faleron asked, nodding to the second steaming teapot.

"Water for the green tea powder for Kel. Speaking of… Good Morning," Roald smiled as both Gwen and Kel stepped through the door.

"Morning… did you sleep well?" Gwen yawned.

"Very well. Thank you." Roald honestly felt great and was not even slightly angry at Gwen drugging his tea. In fact he was amused that the women in his life had banded together so well to take care of him when he wouldn't have been able to do it himself. He was far too worried about the meetings and had he even tried to go to bed it was likely he would keep himself awake worrying. "Here, eat up. You'll need the strength today." He selected one of the covered plates off of the food cart and handed it over with a mug of tea. Neal arrived several minutes later and when they were all seated and eating Faleron started the review of what everyone's roles were for the day.

The conference room was empty when they arrived but that was to be expected. They were early. Gwen set about her duties setting up the name cards and cups at all of the places while Roald and the others got to work setting up their papers. When the first people started to arrive, Gwen bowed and escorted them to their seats and asked for their drink preference.

"A squire?" One of the male diplomats, a man named Juris, looked Gwen over when she bowed to him at the door. "And a female one at that. Are you here for our entertainment sweetheart?"

Roald looked up, alarmed at the insult directed at his squire. He wanted to say something on her behalf as she closed off her own face and blandly asked for what Juris would like to drink.

"If she responds or if you respond in anger, neither of you will be helping our cause," Kel murmured in Roald's ear. "Sadly, she's used to it."

And Roald knew that Kel was right. But Gwen's face wasn't the only one closed off of emotions. Looking at his friends he could see Kel's blank mask echoed by Faleron and Neal as they greeted Juris and the other diplomats arriving. It wasn't fair but Kel was right and he would find some way to apologize to Gwen for putting her in that situation.

"Oh don't mind him, Squire, he doesn't know how to handle the fact a woman would likely best him on the battlefield." Roald looked to the speaker as Gwen did. A handsome man in his mid-twenties with light brown hair and green eyes was giving her a charming smile.

"Sir Nikolas, I presume?" Gwen's returned smile was just as charming as she address the last diplomat to arrive. "Your seat is over here."

"Thank you, and which of these fine knight's do you belong to?"

"High Highness Roald of Conte," she bowed in Roald's direction.

"You're the squire that took the arrows for him," Nikolas continued to smile.

"You are very well informed, Sir Nikolas," Gwen bowed once again and moved to her designated place waiting for drinks to need to be refilled. Roald certainly wasn't oblivious to Sir Nikolas' attempts to engage his squire in the conversation as the morning wore on. But Gwen stayed adamantly to the side of the room, only making her presence known to others when filling cups.

After a long line of introductions and sharing of deeds and titles by both sides, the morning was slated for trade talks. Sir Neal had explained to her several nights before that by starting with the deeds of the people in the room they reminded each other that war would not be easy. By moving on to trade they reminded each other what they would lose when war began. The last issue to arise would always be the Drell River Valley and who controlled it. If war happened, they wouldn't have time to speak of anything else. If peace continued, then they would negotiate rights of the use of the valley and sign trade agreements. Trade talks were expected to last a few three days and by midday Gwen no longer cared about the rising cost of wool and Tortall's ability to supply it which had been the same topic since the first break. Gwen wanted to sit, wanted to drink something, wanted to grab something to eat. But instead she stayed firmly located in the corner drawing no attention to herself if she could help it and waited to attend to the guests of the meeting.

"Gwen," Roald summoned her across the room with a flick of a finger. She went to him and knelt down between him and Faleron to allow him to say what he needed without having to announce it. "Run this message for me about the wool trade," he handed her a piece of paper folded up. "It goes to who we had discussed." Gwen took the note with no hint that she was confused on her face. If anything she'd go to Sir Myles. Stepping out of the room she looked at the note for a sign and saw it was written to herself.

_Take a short break. We'll be fine. Eat something quick._

_-Roald_

She could have gone back and kissed the man for the opportunity to sit and eat something, albeit quickly. Instead of going back to thank him, she followed his orders and went to the kitchens to beg a plate and to sit. She'd be back in the meetings right as they were receiving their midday plates.


	8. Chapter 8

"Does it bother anyone else that that Sir Nikolas fellow keeps trying to get Gwen to talk to him?" Roald asked while sitting with his friends during dinner after the third full day of trade talks. He had dismissed Gwen to relax on her own for the night but Faleron, Neal, and Kel had opted to stay with him for dinner and Kel had brought along Dom who had yet to leave.

"What's this?" Dom looked to Kel for an answer.

"A knight from Tusaine is very obviously flirting with Gwen whenever he sees an opportunity," Kel rolled her eyes. She turned her attention back to Roald. "You know, you may only see her as your squire but you might also want to notice she's a very pretty sixteen year old woman. He's probably just very attracted to her. This probably won't be the only time this happens."

"And does Gwen return his flirting?" Dom asked looking to the others.

"Not really. She acknowledges his compliments but doesn't really respond too much as far as flirting in return." Neal answered for him. "If I was Sir Nikolas I'd be giving up. Three days of polite acknowledgements of what you said with no return would sort of tell me I'm howling at the wrong moon."

"Says the man who chased unattainable ladies for years without so much as actually talking to any of them or actually flirting in any way and certainly no reciprocation," Faleron dodged Neal's fist and turned his attention to Roald. "Just like with that Juris fellow, you won't do us any favors addressing it now. Sir Nikolas has a lot of power in Tusaine. And Gwen can tell him 'no' if it does come down to something. Or Gwen can tell him 'yes' should she so choose. Like Kel said, she's an attractive young woman. Men are bound to notice and she's going to have her fair share of men approaching her for a compliment rather than an insult. Of course insult seems to happen more often with ladies of the warrior class."

"I don't have to like it. It's like having someone trying to tumble my sister," Roald growled into his cup.

"So tell me how else these talks are going besides Squire Gwen getting flirted with much to his Highness' displeasure," Dom prodded. "My Lord almost managed to drag us all out the other night because he's paranoid he's going to have to sit in the meetings. Buri stopped him and distracted him but I doubt even she can delay his fears forever."

"Well, trade talks are going exceptionally well. We were hung up a bit on the new cost of wool and certainly the cost of lumber, but they barely batted an eyelash at grain. Tomorrow will be the last day of trade and then we'll move on to the real issues at hand." Neal supplied. "Then we'll know the course of the next few years."

"I just wish it wasn't all on my shoulders," Roald groaned. It wasn't like him to complain to his friends about the hand he had been dealt in life. He knew he had it pretty good. If he wished for something, it was likely he'd get it. He had disposable wealth to spend on whatever he wanted and he was gifted much by people trying to buy his favor. He was served the best food, had choice of the best teas, wines, and juices that were available. His clothes were always of the best quality, comfortable, and if he chose, he wouldn't even have to dress himself. His wife had been chosen for him and he had been lucky she was so easy to love and so beautiful. To all appearances, he had an amazing life. But he also had the weight of the Crown and the expectations of the world pushing down on him at all times while holding the fate and balance of the country in his hands. As the Crowned Prince all of his life he had been raised knowing these things and he had tried not to show privilege while also trying not to stick his foot in his mouth. The impression he made on people as the Prince would mark his followers as the King. So far he had made few enemies by those he met personally. That didn't mean that those watching to see how he would handle the Tusaine predicament wouldn't sway against him and try to end his life or remove the Conte line from the throne permanently.

But he usually held his tongue in complaining because normal people thought it showed incompetence or that he lacked confidence in himself and the standings of the Tortallan people. The only people he could complain to and receive sympathy were his wife, his parents, his siblings, and the three friends in the room with him. Only Dom was a wild card and by the look on his face, he understood where Roald was coming from. It would make sense as he was a commander and knew that his decisions impacted his men directly and on a smaller scale, unfavorable decisions would create unrest in his men and possibly a mutiny situation.

"If you noticed, it's all on theirs too. They didn't send their normal diplomats. They sent their young ones. This is a trial run on both sides," Kel observed drawing Roald out of his self-pity. "They probably don't want war either as they are a fairly small country with not so much of an army, but they could be banking on we don't want a war after we dealt with Scanra."

"But they will be wanting to make a name for themselves and get that ground. They'll want to prove their generation will succeed where the past generation failed," Neal settled back in his chair and folded his hands together. "What we are tasked with is squashing that 'hope', for lack of a better term, out of them while still maintaining good relations with them and their supporters."

"We do that by maintaining the upper hand in trade," Faleron acknowledged. "We make ourselves the best country to trade with. We provide access to the best goods at the best prices. We remind them that we are the safest country to travel through to get to the ports for trade by sea and that we have the safest roads for the merchant caravans. We reinforce how good our warriors are by keeping these routes safe. And when unrest starts to happen, we start cutting back. We stop trading with them. We stop allowing merchant caravans heading for the Tusaine border through Tortall. It becomes harder and more expensive to get goods that they don't produce in their country or enough of in their country. We make them see that that piece of ground they want so bad, isn't worth beggaring the country to get."

"When you put it that way, it doesn't sound so impossible, it just sounds like politics." Dom grinned at Faleron. "I'll stick to my part of keeping the land safe and let you big thinkers handle the big picture."

"As if you aren't a big thinker," Neal teased. "This man sees the big picture in any tactical situation and refuses to believe that politics are much the same as a war."

"Dom's just more a man of action than sitting in on meetings," Roald supplied. "I can understand that. Lord Raoul is much the same. He knows politics but he pretends he doesn't so he can go actually do something rather than talk about it."

"You know my plans way too well," Dom raised a glass in toast to Roald. "I know I for one will be pleased when you take up the Throne. And I know Masbolle is behind you."

"As is King's Reach."

"And Queenscove."

"And you know Mindelan will support you."

Roald looked to his friends and felt a lot of gratitude. Before his sat the future Count and Duke of two of the pillars of the kingdom. Their support would sway others. Mindelan while a new fief was one that brought in support from other countries. Yaman supported the Mindelans and would take their word into consideration on any matter. And the fact that Masbolle was supporting Roald meant a switch was happening in the kingdom. Masbolle was a middle ground fief that produced the most exquisite and best wine not only in Tortall but in the surrounding countries. They interacted well with both the extremely conservative crowd and the extremely progressive crowd. Since they were old noble blood known for their very picky tastes, where their support went in politics weighed in the minds of many other nobles.

"You know that Merrywood will support you, though we aren't as powerful as any of the rest of these fiefs." Roald looked up to see Gwen leaning against the closed door though he couldn't remember hearing it open and by the look on the other's faces he knew it wasn't just because he was distracted by his thoughts. Looking Gwen over he saw that Kel was right, Gwen was a very pretty young lady. Without facepaint on her eyes were large and lined with thick, heavy, dark lashes. Her lips were naturally pink and sculpted to a perfect bow. But tonight her face was painted to make her eyes look even bigger and brighter, and her lips were painted to shimmer in petal pink. Her body was lean, just at about five and a half feet tall, with small but noticeable curves when she wore clothes other than her practice clothes or uniforms. Tonight it was a sage green sleeveless overdress belted over a pale gray light cotton dress. Her dark hair she had let down and had pinned back out of her face with pins decorated with pale green stones.

"Of course the support of Merrywood matters greatly. One of our most profitable woodland fiefs that manages to maintain positive relations with all of their neighbors." Roald assured her. "And what has you all dolled up like a proper lady that fusses over her looks," He asked frowning at her attire. She seemed to have put a lot of work into her appearance for someone who didn't like fuss.

"Sir Nikolas asked if I would join him for a cup of tea tonight," she held out the invitation for Roald to see. "Since he asked for Lady Gwendolyn of Merrywood and not Squire Gwen, I figured I'd go. But I'm stopping by to let you know where I will be." She held out a small folded envelope for Roald to see. "Unless you would prefer I politely decline due to the meetings still being in progress."

Roald looked at the neat lettering that indicated exactly what Kel had pointed out. Sir Nikolas had noticed that Gwen was a very attractive young lady and he would know it more so after she showed up at his door tonight. He had indeed not addressed her by her title as squire but as a lady. This was a formal invitation too, the kind men sent to women they were romantically interested in, not the informal notes that went for private meetings between friends or friendly encounters. Looking up at Kel surprised at how correct she had been, he noticed she was making eye contact with Gwen and tapping something under her shirt just above her sternum. In response Gwen gave a slight nod. The exchange was subtle but noticeable enough that all four men were watching.

"I can't see a reason why you shouldn't go unless you don't want to go. I only ask that you keep conversation about the talks off limits," Roald handed the invitation back to her. "But if the signs are correct he's more interested in other things."

"I'll check in in the morning at the usual time," Gwen took the invitation back and dipped a curtsey before leaving.

"Very nice way of asking if she had a pregnancy charm," Neal said a few moments after Gwen had left.

"That's what that was?" Faleron looked to Kel for confirmation.

"I wanted to make sure she was safe and that she could make that decision if she wanted," Kel shrugged.

"If he's looking to properly court her, then a tumble won't be on his mind tonight," Roald growled.

"That is if he's looking to properly court her. There's a chance he sees a pretty lady that isn't being held to the virginity standards that our other young ladies are and wants to take advantage," Faleron refilled his cup with wine. "I hope that's not the case, but it's just as likely."

"No matter what," Roald shook his head, "it's her private business and none of ours now that we know she's at least thinking safe about it thanks to Kel." And he knew he was right as much as it felt like he should protect Gwen from a predator like he would protect his own sisters.


	9. Chapter 9

Gwen had been surprised only partially by the invitation that had been delivered to her door in the Squire's Wing when she had only been back in her room a few minutes. She knew that Sir Nikolas had been attempting to flirt with her. And as a way to protect Roald during the talks she had not responded at all except polite acknowledgement as she was acting as his squire. But this invitation had been addressed to her as a lady. As much as she hated fussing there was something exciting about being invited to an intimate cup of tea for the first time. She had seen other female squires and pages approached by peers in less romantic and less traditional ways. It was nice for a bit of formality to acknowledge that she was a lady as well. She had dressed the part with the small lady's wardrobe she kept for special occasions. And after her brief stop to talk to Prince Roald about her doings, she felt like she had dressed the part well.

Sir Nikolas was indeed a powerful person in Tusaine. Gwen knew he was the son the most well-known general in Tusaine with all plans to take his place when his father retired and his friendship with the heir of the Crown in Tusaine was matched by Sir Faleron's friendship with Roald. The acknowledgement of his status by the Tortallan monarchy was to house him in a very nice suite that held a sitting room, a dining room, a servant's room, a decent sized bedroom, a privy, and a dressing room. Gwen knew all of this before she had even met the man that had taken an interest in her. She was also aware that Sir Nikolas was the only member of the diplomatic party that ranked so high and had brought his own servant. So she wasn't surprised when it was a manservant who answered the door rather than Sir Nikolas himself.

Sir Nikolas himself was waiting for her in the sitting room, standing to greet her and looking her over with a look that resembled pleasant surprise as he looked her over. After the door closed behind her she saw him flick his hands at his manservant.

"Thank you, Gerald, you are dismissed for the evening," he didn't even take his eyes off of her to see if he had been obeyed. After a moment he shook his head as if to clear it and gave her his now infamous charming smile. "My Lady, I am in awe of your beauty. I was unaware of that you were hiding this behind your squire's uniform or I certainly would have asked you to join me for tea much sooner in order to make sure no one else could snatch you up."

"You are too kind," she blushed at his praise. It was a pleasant change for being looked down on for her sex.

"And you are far too modest for as beautiful as you are," he told her with the charm oozing from his words. "Please have a seat," he bowed to her and indicated that she should sit on the same couch he had been occupying. She was surprised by his boldness as he sat down next to her, leaving only half a foot of space between them but she let him have his small victory. This sort of man was the kind one had to pick their battles with. He reached over to the small tea set he had on the table and started to pour two cups.

"That's a beautiful set," she nodded to the black stone tea pot with the matching black cups painted with silver vines.

"It was a gift from his Royal Highness Prince Edric of Tusaine," she saw him puff his chest out a bit as he said it. It was a good bragging point for any nobleman to be close in with the royalty. "The tea is also a gift from him. I think you'll like it. It's a special blend of spices in a black tea. Traditionally we drink it with milk mixed in but I know Tortall tends to frown upon milk in tea."

"Perhaps we should observe the tradition," she nodded to the small pitcher of milk that was sitting on the tray. She saw his smile. She was of course doing exactly as he wanted but the fact he had left room for the milk as he poured and the cups. "And is asking ladies to tea also a tradition for you?" She asked when he handed her the cup with tea and milk.

"I would be lying if I said I had not invited other ladies to tea before, but none so beautiful as yourself. Your eyes sparkle like blue sodalite surrounded by diamonds," he informed her. She knew sodalite as a mineral of a blue with often violet shades and white veining. It was pretty without being a gemstone. It was a twist on one of the traditional compliments a man paid to a lady about her eyes. Usually a man listed a sparkling gem rather than a mineral. "And your hair is like the color of rosewood with the softness and beauty of velvet. How anyone could let a beauty like you out of their sight to become a squire is beyond me." He was staring at her face again with more awe than charm.

"Perhaps they let me become a squire, or rather, they let me train to be a knight because they know a woman is so much more than her beauty," Gwen was mentally holding her breath. It was the first set of compliments from him that she wasn't acknowledging. Not that his compliments were anything but the same list of compliments men usually gave to women. 'Your eyes shine like gemstones,' 'your hair is a luxurious fabric,' next would come something regarding the colors of her clothes complimenting something about her skin tone, eye color, or her whole color palette. After that, if he was bold enough, he might compliment her lips or her body itself. She wasn't impressed by these things as some ladies were but she wasn't going to show her hand yet if she could help it. It might help her to come off like every other lady he had asked to his rooms for tea.

"You are quite right, a woman is so much more than her beauty. I hear you, as part of your studies, work with his Highness Prince Roald with the paperwork of the country's affairs," he sipped at his tea while he spoke to her.

"And how is it you are so well informed about my doings?" Gwen purred rather than acknowledge he was completely correct.

"I believe in doing some scouting when it comes to the class of women you belong to. It wouldn't do me any good be any more surprised by you than I already am. I wouldn't be able to keep my wits about me if you took me anymore by storm." She kept her eyes down on her cup as she listened.

"And which class of women is that, the one which you believe I belong to?"

"The highly desirable combination of intelligent and beautiful, naturally." She had no response so she sipped her tea in silence waiting for him to have more to say. "So you took arrows for Prince Roald and he made you his squire and rewarded you with his trust. I mean, he must trust you with a lot of important information if he has you working so closely with him."

A red flag went up in Gwen's mind. There were so many ways this conversation could go and yet it came back to her position with Roald. Thankfully some of the conversation skills they taught ladies at the convent could be adapted to such situations. Ladies were taught if they wanted to keep the attention of a man away from topics they had no knowledge of, they should compliment the man. In this case it wasn't that she had no knowledge about what Roald had entrusted her with, it was that she didn't want to lead him on to believe she was privy to such information.

"The ladies must fawn over you in Tusaine with you being so close to the Prince and being so incredibly handsome." She managed to force a blush as she said it and looked away to show she was embarrassed by her own boldness. "You likely have your pick of any woman in Tusaine." Gwen found the cup was plucked from her hands before she fully finished her sentence. One large calloused hand enveloped both of her with ease while the other hand found a place under her chin to force her to look up.

"That may all be true and yet the woman I find myself desiring only makes polite acknowledgement of me," he told her, his eyes on her lips as he spoke. He let go of her chin to raise both of her hands to his lips and kiss her fingers. Her heart was racing. He was good at his flirtations though some part of her doubted his intentions. She saw a brief flicker of embarrassment cross his face as he let her hands go. "I'm sorry, I fear I have pressed what little luck I have tonight. I will keep myself in better check."

"Perhaps you should tell me what some of these delicacies are," she redirected the conversation to the bite sized foods that were on a platter near the tea set. She recognized a few of them with her fief being somewhat near the Tusaine border but she knew it would give him something else to focus on and give her a break from his flirtations.

"Of course, how silly of me," he turned his attention to the platter as well. "Do you like mushrooms?" He selected a mushroom cap off of the plate. "This is a mushroom stuffed with lamb and goat cheese. It's a favorite at the Tusaine court." He placed it in her hand.

"I'm not much for lamb but this is alright," she said after taking a bite. She watched him process the information and then look over the platter once again.

"Perhaps something sweet? This is a pecan tart." He placed the tart in her hands and watched her eat. "Do you like it? No I can tell you aren't thrilled with it. Here this you'll like I'm certain." She could see he was flustered, two strikes on the food he was picking for her. His hands stopped moving over a bowl of sugared cherries. He picked it up and selected a cherry out of it. Instead of placing it in her hands he pressed it up to her lips. There was a brief second where his finger brushed over her lips. She raised an eyebrow at him in response and he held his hand up in surrender. "Pressing my luck again, I know."

"These I do like." She told him nodding to the cherries. They were pitted cherries stuffed with marzipan and then coated in sugar.

"So now that I've found a treat you like, and you seem to be enjoying the tea," he nodded to her half empty cup. "Tell me a little more about yourself. Do you like being Roald's squire even though he makes you serve through long meetings?"

"His Highness is an excellent knight master and I couldn't ask for better," Gwen informed him finally. It had come back to Roald once again and if she wanted him to show his hand she had to give a little too. So she gave him nothing he could actually use while opening up a little.

"You must be learning a lot about the realm," he pressed.

"You must learn a lot about the realm by being His Highness Prince Edric's close friend," she turned it on him.

"No more than he means for me to know, certainly," Nikolas sighed. "So what do you think about these meetings. I'm sure you've been listening."

"You of all people should know I won't speak about the meetings." She told him.

"But between you and me, you must know how his Highness is planning to proceed."

"Did you lure me here to ask about my relationship with his Highness and to get me to speak about the meetings?" Gwen set her cup down on the table. "I'm surprised that you are so presumptuous to invite me here, and flirt with me, and only ask about my relationship with his Highness and the meetings. You, Sir Nikolas, are just trying to use me." She stood and made to sweep out the door as if she were storming off like a lady. She was indeed mad but it was a calculated move. It had to be a calculated move. She couldn't call him out and leave. That could cause tension in the meetings. What she could do was call him out and give him an opportunity to cover. He had shown her enough to prove he was indeed trying to use her but if he didn't want her to go back to Roald upset, he would need to protect himself with some sort of cover.

"Wait, My Lady, please, I'm sorry," he caught her hand and turned her to look at him. He knelt down in front of her. "It was not my intention to get information from you but these meetings have put me under so much pressure I forgot myself." He brought her hand to his lips again. "I would beg for your forgiveness but I do not deserve it. Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"You can let go of my hand," she waited for him to release her hand and turned to go to the door again. She had enough of a handle on what he was like now. He would not take her rejection tonight as an insult, especially because she had made it clear it was his fault. He wouldn't chase her down either. It was likely he would make some sort of gesture to her as a real apology in hopes she would at least keep quiet to her knight master but it wouldn't happen tonight. It would have to be something he put some thought and planning into. There was even a slight chance he wouldn't ask for her company again though that seemed unlikely when she glanced back at him to see him still kneeling on the floor where she had left him, looking slightly dumbfounded that she was leaving after his begging for forgiveness.

As she let the door close behind her, she guessed very few women had managed to walk away like that before. She, herself, had had a hard time walking away from him. It had felt like a genuine apology and she found she did like how he flirted with her. She would have to keep her defenses up until talks were over and things were settled. If he was still interested after that then she would have to believe he truly had just been pressured and wasn't singling her out to try and get information from her. If that was the case, she might give him the forgiveness he wanted and open the lines of communication again. But for now, she had to go back to her room and clean up so she was ready for the meeting in the morning.


	10. Chapter 10

Roald was pacing his study when Gwen arrived the next morning dressed smartly in her uniform with her face free of paint and her hair bound back again. He looked her over and she rolled her eyes at him.

"We didn't discuss the meeting," she told him calmly. There was no point in stressing Roald out if she didn't have to. He didn't need to know that she had left Sir Nikolas' rooms because he kept trying for information.

"He's more worried that you were charmed into his bed and have literally slept with the enemy," Neal informed her as he came through the door yawning.

"I spent the night in my room, in my bed, alone, thank you very much." Gwen put her hands on her hips. "I barely stayed half an hour." She went to get her plate of food without waiting to see the response. "What's the agenda today?" Just like she tried to redirect the conversation with Sir Nikolas, she was redirecting the conversation some place more productive. And unlike Sir Nikolas, Roald and his friends took the hint and didn't press any further. Instead they turned to talking about the final areas of trade of which the main part of the day was set aside simply to discuss trade caravans and their ability to walk straight through Tortall to Tusaine from the sea.

If Gwen thought the matter was dropped for the day, Sir Nikolas was waiting in the conference room for her. He first greeted Roald, Sir Faleron, Sir Neal, and Lady Kel before he turned to her. She tried to brush past him to get to setting up but he caught her hand once again. "My Lady, just give me a moment of your time," he whispered.

"I do not have a moment to give, My Lord" she told him calmly, not bothering to whisper. She moved to her station. She felt a presence behind her and groaned internally. It was too early to deal with these sorts of things.

"Did he hurt you?" She heard the quiet whisper in her ear. It wasn't Sir Nikolas or even Roald but Sir Faleron standing just over her shoulder. She gave a slight shake of her head. "He insulted you." She heard it as a statement but decided to give him a response anyway.

"Not in the way you think," she kept her whisper to barely above a breath.

"Squire," Faleron's voice was louder so the whole room could hear it. "There's a traditional tea our guests drink, perhaps you have heard of it. It's a spiced black tea." She squared her shoulders knowing he was about to give her an order and she would likely appreciate it. "It might be a nice gesture if you were to serve it today."

"Yes, My Lord," she stopped fiddling with the cups and turned to bow to Faleron. By the time she was back with the proper tea and the milk to go with it, the meeting would be starting and any chance of Sir Nikolas talking to her would be done with until later when she would be able to think better. She waited for Roald to nod for her to go before she rushed out into the hall to go to the kitchens and beg for the correct tea service.

When she came back with the tea in several pots and several small pitchers of milk she was greeted with enthusiasm by the diplomats at her inclusion of the milk. And when she served Roald, Neal, Kel, and Faleron she poured milk into their tea as well though she saw all four of them give her a look. "It's the traditional way. Might as well do it right," she whispered to them. With the tea as an offering the trade talks sped along right to midday. They decided to break for midday for once and Roald summoned Gwen to his side before anyone else could get up from the table.

"Tell me about last night," he commanded when the room was completely cleared out of the diplomats. It was a royal command so she had to give him the information he wanted. So she told him, and his friends, what had happened while glossing over some of the flirtations. "He doesn't want to jeopardize the talks by making too big of a deal out of it, it seems. That's a good thing." Roald sighed. "I appreciate that you didn't say anything to him."

"Did you really think I would?" Gwen stared at Roald unable to believe that he might possibly have believed she would have betrayed his trust to some man that knew how to flirt. "Oh Mithros, don't answer that. I don't want to know. I'm just going to hope you had some sort of faith in me." She turned towards the door and stopped to look back. "I'm going to replenish the drink service."

When Gwen returned she found Roald waiting for her in the hallway outside of the conference room. His arms were crossed and he stared her down as she pushed the cart up the hall. "I don't think you'd tell my secrets. I know you wouldn't take arrows for me and then shoot me in the back later on." He told her firmly. "That doesn't mean I am unable to appreciate how you held your own. I'm allowed to be proud that you did exactly what I hoped you'd do." He sighed and looked her over. "Now, it looks like we are going to end early today. That tea eased things along nicely. I was thinking we could take the extra time and do some actual weapons' practice."

"I like that idea." She smiled at him liking the idea of getting to hit something to relieve some of the stress from the meetings.

"And here comes your friend," Roald gave her a smile. "Let him apologize so we can get beyond this."

"Lady Gwendolyn," Sir Nikolas called. When Gwen turned to look for Roald he was gone. "He can't be so much of a slave driver he won't give you a moment during midday break," Sir Nikolas drew level with her.

"His Highness Prince Roald of Conte is never a slave driver Sir Nikolas," Gwen crossed her arms over her chest. "And it's Squire Gwendolyn. I'm not a lady."

"I beg to differ, that little maneuver last night was very lady like," he grinned at her for a moment and then he sighed and looked down at the floor looking properly ashamed again. "Lady Gwendolyn, I mean, Lady Squire Gwendolyn, I let the pressures of these meetings get in the way of properly entertaining you last night. That was a failure on my behalf and I'd like to make it up to you. I've been speeding things along on our end with the hope we'll get out early, then I would like to take you to dinner." Gwen hid a smile. Roald had mentioned that he believed the tea was what had sped along the meetings when really it had been Sir Nikolas stopping the more pointless debates his people tended to have over every price listed, but Roald didn't need to know any of that.

"I won't be able to join you," she started.

"What can I do to make you understand I mean this in good faith?" He cut her off from explaining that she had plans already. "I promise, I swear, I will not once mention the meetings, your knight master, or your work for him," he held up a hand to swear it.

"That's very nice of you," she informed him. The idea was enticing as he had cut off asking about anything that would sound like he was only out to use her. "However," she continued, "his Highness has already claimed that free time for weapons' practice. So I won't be available for dinner." Gwen informed him.

"So I'm late in making my proposal," he sighed and then his face lit up again. "When do you have free time normally? In the morning before the meetings? Breakfast? No? In the late evenings like last night?"

"After the meetings are completely over, I might have time. Until then I believe it's best we do not spend time together. No need to allow stress to cause any undo tension," she turned to go into the meeting and he reached out to stop her.

"One moment, please," he touched her arm only briefly to get her attention again. "For you," he pressed a plain silver box into her hands and then went inside of the conference room. Gwen waited until he was gone and opened the box to find it was filled with the sugared cherries from the night before and a note with another written apology tucked inside. She carried it inside and set the box down on the beverage service counter and went about refilling cups. She made a mental note to have someone check it for listening spells or any other type of trickery. She wasn't so secure in his apologies and promises that she trusted him completely.

"So tell me what happened," Roald prodded when they started to spar in one of the private indoor practice courts. "Did you two kiss and make up?"

"There was no kissing," Gwen laughed. "I can't figure him out. Sometimes it feels like he's trying to use me and then he does something completely genuine. I mean out of the few interactions we have had."

"Despite what women think, men can be complicated too," Roald informed her. "For example, I want to throttle Sir Nikolas for even looking at you like he does, but I think you could give him a chance if it's what you want."

"Could or should?" Gwen pressed.

"Could, because I won't tell you what you should and shouldn't do in your relationship choices other than you should wear a pregnancy charm and you should be cautious if you don't feel right. I will tell you that you should open up your stance a bit more or I'm going to knock you over." She adjusted her stance and went in for the attack.

"So he tried to invite me out to dinner tonight as an apology for 'letting the pressures of the meetings make him fail to entertain me properly' or something like that." She shrugged. "He promised he would not bring up the meetings, you, or anything I do for you."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I had plans made prior to him asking and I that I would not have free time until the meetings are over."

"You could have told me, we could have rescheduled," Roald stopped swinging his staff and looked down at her.

"Weapons practice first," she informed him. "We haven't been doing any squire stuff for like three weeks. It's nice to be a normal squire every now and then."

"Most squires would like a three week break from normal duties," Roald informed her as he switched to attack.

"Most squires don't have to remind their knight masters to teach them that splendid staff trick they just did," she side stepped the attack and moved her staff to the ready and waited for Roald to repeat the move. They worked well up to dinner switching between staves, swords, and archery. On their way out Roald slung an arm around Gwen's shoulders to steer her down the hall.

"Stow your weapons, bathe, back to my study," he told her. "The others are coming to talk about what's going to happen tomorrow. I want you there to hear the plans and I want your input."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Because I haven't said it in a while. The majority of the characters and places belong to Tamora Pierce.**

If the meetings had seemed tense when discussing trade, Roald could only compare any of those so called tense moments to when he was a page and received punishment work. Hard enough at the time but nothing he couldn't handle. Now the meetings had turned for the worse and he felt the tension building like a noose around his own neck. Gwen had replaced their normal teas with calming teas in hopes to bring down the shouting that had started to take place over an hour before. Now looking at her, Roald could see her holding the now empty pot close like a good luck charm as she surveyed the room looking for yet another solution. He stared at her. After a moment she set the pot down and started to serve the contents of yet another pot that had been brought to the door only minutes earlier by a terrorized looking servant.

"The land was rightfully ours! It's part of Tusaine's history!" Juris stood and threw his fists down on the table, upsetting his cup of tea and spilling it across the table.

"It became part of Tortall during Jasson of Conte's wars. The land had been part of Tortall now for almost five generations. The people that live there have been Tortallan subjects all of their lives," Neal informed them. "The land was signed over in a treaty of peace during those wars."

"Not to mention the wording of the treaty of peace signed in the last war with Tusaine of 435 H.E. stated that Tusaine recognizes the land of the Drell River Valley belongs to Tortall and that any attempts to claim it could result in war," Faleron held up the documents in question. Every single person had a copy of the documents.

"Unlawfully taken during the wars of King Jasson! And King Ain was forced to sign those as you held his brothers hostage!" Juris threw a hand back and caught Gwen hard in the shoulder. She had been attempting to clean up the spilled tea. Roald watched her bite back a response of her own as she moved to another vantage point to mop at the tea. "It should be given back to its rightful owners. The people of Tusaine."

"It was given over lawfully in by your king at the time," Roald ventured his own comment.

"And if Tortall wasn't a bunch of barbarians pretending at civilization and hiding behind fantastic half truths of stories this conversation would be done as the right thing is to give back the land!" Another diplomat yelled. Once the personal attacks on the people of the country started, everyone took leave of their senses and started to bicker. This was what Roald had feared would happen. He would be blamed for war though he had been put in a fairly impossible situation. How did one handle such chaos and reign it back to civilized conversation. He stood trying to make his presence bigger and more commanding.

"Tortall is bullying us the way they bullied our forefathers. They dangle the trade we need as a small land locked country as bait and then take it away when we try and claim back what is ours!" One of the Tusaine diplomats yelled. Where conversation had turned to removing the trade agreements had come in, he wasn't sure. It was hard to grasp on to everything that was being said when eight people were all talking at once.

"If it's war you want, it's war you'll get!" Roald heard a man yell. "Let's take our advantage while we have it!" There was an incoherent shout that followed and a flash of red and gold crossed in front of him.

"No! Juris! Dammit!" The roar came from Sir Nikolas as Roald caught Gwen when she stumbled. Looking up Roald could see that Juris was being held down in his chair by Sir Nikolas and one of the other diplomats. Only Juris did not look appalled by his actions. So at least it hadn't been planned. But now Roald looked down at Gwen who was still in his arms with the hilt of a dagger sticking out of her shoulder.

"Neal," Roald called as he lowered Gwen into his own chair. "Gwen?"

"I'm okay," she whispered, a timid smile forming on her lips. "I didn't knock you out this time at least," she urged him to smile.

"I'm going to have to pull the dagger out to start to heal it," Neal told her, not bothering to look at anyone but Gwen. "On the count of three." He counted and Roald watched the pain pass over Gwen's features as the blade was pulled out the way it went in. "Fal? Go get my father. Tell him we'll need bandages, enough to wrap a shoulder wound."

"Get Sir Myles as well and have him bring some guards," Roald told him as he went out of the door.

"An assassination attempt is a very serious matter," Neal turned his attention half to Sir Nikolas. "Is this how you want these meetings to go?"

"Juris' actions are not condoned by the Monarchy of Tusaine," Sir Nikolas managed to say. "I do have to say Prince Edric would likely wish to be contacted regarding his behavior and be given the opportunity to intervene on his behalf. There are punishments that also have to be given to those who misrepresent the Crown he would like to put in place."

"Once the guards arrive you may go contact him. Should you need a mage, we can provide one for you," Roald informed the man.

"No need, I am a mage myself," Sir Nikolas held up a yellow green flame in his own hand and then extinguished it.

"I'm glad you got in your weapons' practice last night because you'll be restricted again," Neal informed Gwen. "It's not use complaining to me," he added when she pulled a face. "I'm going to cut your tunic off because pulling it over your head won't work right now."

"Your Highness, I'm going to need a new uniform," Gwen's smile was genuine as she looked to Roald and he couldn't help but smile back. She had taken a dagger for him. This was the second time she had taken a weapon aimed at killing him. And for the second time he had not been prepared for such an attack in his own palace. He would need to remedy that situation. And that Gwen was trying to make light of the situation meant she was trying to stop him from worrying over her. The door opened and the guards that came in were not the traditional palace guards that roamed but Captain Dom and a squad of the King's Own. Roald was certain he saw a look of relief pass over Dom's face when he noted it was not Kel or Neal that was injured. Myles arrived a moment later, his eyes sweeping over the room before landing on Juris being held in his chair and Gwen still being fussed over by Neal.

"What happened?" He asked though Roald was certain Faleron had filled him in. Roald reported what he was aware of and then added, quietly, that he was fairly certain that it had not been a plot put out by Crown in Tusaine but simply Juris acting on his own. His own companions seemed stunned by his actions and were helping in restraining him.

"Naturally, you'll wish to contact Prince Edric," Sir Myles turned to Sir Nikolas. "I hope you'll understand that we have an escort take you to your quarters to do so."

"It's only natural," Sir Nikolas looked to Gwen and frowned. "I want to assure you that this and war were the absolute last things that Tusaine wants to happen." He nodded to Dom who dispatched two of his men to go with Sir Nikolas and they left. Duke Baird arrived a few moments later with Faleron and after several moments of quiet discussion between Neal and Baird, Gwen was lifted up and moved out of the room.

"We'll have him confined to his rooms until we hear back from Prince Edric," Myles nodded to Juris. "The others we'll put guards on but not restrict their movements."

Then in a flash it was all taken care of. Roald stayed well after the Tusaine diplomats had cleared out with their guards and Sir Myles had left. Things had turned sour but as he thought about the ring leader in the sourness it had all been Juris. Perhaps Sir Nikolas had been right, that they did not wish for war. Certainly Sir Nikolas, the actual leader of the group, had not been putting in as much effort into riling up the meetings. In fact, he had hardly spoken at all except to point out that the land had historically belonged to Tusaine and that they needed the access to the River Drell.

"You're still in here?" Faleron peered in some time later.

"Cleaning up the wreckage," Roald pointed to the pile of cleaning cloths that he had begged out of a servant to mop up spilled tea and blood from where Gwen had dripped.

"Well leave the rest for the servants, it's why you pay them. Gwen's resting. She's still more worried about you than herself." Faleron made Roald stand and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Shinko is worried about you too. I can go assure your squire but you have to be the one to assure your wife. Should another child result out of this assurance, I am not going to be involved in any rumors of the origins of your dark haired, dark eyed children," Faleron winked as he steered Roald down the hall that led to his own rooms.

"Fal?" Roald stopped him before they made it to his rooms. "Answer something for me. Be honest."

"I'm always honest with you," Faleron assured him.

"Have I become so… I don't know… complacent maybe? Gwen has stepped in to save my life twice in less than half a year. Both times she's taken the damage for me. But I'm a fully trained knight. Shouldn't I have been able to realize what was happening?"

"Roald, you're surrounded by fully trained knights asking themselves the same questions. We were all so involved in the debate that we were just as stunned by what happened. Gwen's got exceptionally fast reflexes. Both Neal and I have questioned her on what warning signs she saw. She tells us it's usually the weapon that she sees that gives it away. So she has no more warning than most of us. She tells us that it's just instinct she's relying on when it comes down to it. We're just lucky her instinct is to protect you." Faleron sighed. "The ball, well, that only could have been avoided had we overly checked for weapons of people coming in, all night. That wouldn't go over well. Today could have been avoided. We should have looked into Juris a little better and we all should have been on alert when the tension started to rise in that room."

"We learned our lesson this time," Roald shook his head. "I hope we can avoid any tragedy next time. I'm not exactly sure what to thank Gwen with this time."

"Well, she needs a new uniform," Faleron winked and gave Roald a shove towards the door to his rooms. "Go see Shinko. I'll go watch over Gwen."

Roald watched Faleron walk away and smiled. He was grateful for his friends but he was mostly grateful for Faleron who knew exactly what to say to him and exactly how much teasing was enough. Roald also knew that Faleron would go keep an eye on Gwen just as he had volunteered himself to do when Gwen had first saved his life. He could rest easy knowing that Faleron was watching over his squire. And speaking of rest, he could certainly use some and he knew Shinko would know exactly how to take his mind off of the matters of the realm and his own life that usually kept him up at night. Perhaps this time, she might even feel bad enough for him to not drug his tea.


	12. Chapter 12

The problem with 'minor' healings as opposed to coming back from a life threatening healing, Gwen managed to think, was the waking up. When she had come back from death she had slept through the majority of the grogginess that felt like swimming in a pool of honey. But minor healings for injuries such as, say, a dagger to the shoulder, meant she was only a little tired and didn't sleep through that annoying part of the healing process. So it was taking work to think of more than just how inconvenient not dying was. She wasn't to the point where she could open her eyes. They just didn't want to open. And certainly she wasn't about to open her mouth and talk. She wasn't sure if anyone was around. No, wait, now that she was thinking about it, she could hear quiet talking and a little bit of shuffling around.

"This whole thing has gone terribly wrong. I meant what I said when I said we don't want a war," that voice was familiar to her but she still couldn't bring herself to open her eyes.

"So what message do you need relayed to Roald that you had to come hunt me down?" She knew that man's voice too.

The first voice started sounding more official, "His Royal Highness, Prince Edric of Tusaine…" there was a sigh and then the voice continued sounding a bit more weary. "Edric is coming here to Tortall, to Corus, to make amends with Prince Roald for the attempt on his life and to deal with Juris personally. How did I manage to screw up this bad?"

"We've all dealt with people like Juris. You cannot blame yourself for him. He was going to do whatever he wanted even if you were sitting on him and had him bound and gagged." The second voice explained. "Well maybe not if he was bound and gagged but that wouldn't look very good if any of us had ordered that."

"Edric might order that in the future," the first voice was starting to make sense to her. She knew someone who knew Prince Edric of Tusaine well enough to forgo his title. It had to be Sir Nikolas. And the other voice was reasonable, deep, and exceptionally familiar. She guessed Sir Faleron. "Is Lady Squire Gwendolyn going to be alright?"

"She will be perfectly fine. She'll barely have a small scar and no complications at all." Sir Faleron informed him. "I doubt Gwen will be too inconvenienced by it at all."

"I feel exceptionally foggy, that feels like an inconvenience to me," Gwen managed to get out. It was one thing to not talk when they were talking about Roald and Edric but another when they were talking about her.

"Sir Neal left a tea that should help with that," Sir Faleron informed her.

"That sounds worse," she complained, trying to open her eyes more than a slit.

"It's not that bad. Here, let's sit up and if I lie, I'll let you trounce me all up and down the practice courts when Sir Neal clears you again," she heard the humor in his voice at the last part and she resisted the urge to shove him away when his arms wrapped around her torso to lift her. A cup was pressed to her lips and she could smell the sharp scent of mint but little else. After the first sip she smiled. It wasn't some medicinal tea or healer's concoction. It was simply peppermint tea that did a lot to clear the mind. "Was I right?" Sir Faleron prodded.

"This time," she told him finally and managed to open her eyes more to see Sir Faleron clearly sitting on the edge of her bed and Sir Nikolas standing nearby with two men from the King's Own standing by the door. It seemed even Sir Nikolas had to be under guard now.

"Lady Squire Gwendolyn," Sir Nikolas started, wringing his hands before him.

"That's such a mouthful," Gwen sighed. "Even I'm going to get bored of you trying to merge the two titles. Call me Gwen, please," she hadn't wanted to give him that sort of familiarity but she knew he needed something to let him know she wasn't holding him accountable.

"Then it's Nik, please," he told her with a cautious smile. "I suppose we'll have to take a rain check on that dinner. The talks aren't going to end until Edric can get here and then I won't have time until things have settled again."

"Oh I guess it will just have to wait, Nik," she saw his smile strengthen as she said his name.

"I'll relay your message to Roald, Nikolas," Sir Faleron cut in.

"Thank you, Faleron. And Gwen," he bowed to her and Sir Faleron before turning to leave with his guards.

"Dinner huh?" Sir Faleron raised an eyebrow at her when the door closed behind them and she couldn't help but laugh.

The next morning Gwen was in Roald's study long before Roald was but she wasn't alone and certainly wasn't without work as Sir Faleron sat with her at the table giving an in depth lecture on the complex laws surrounding the politics of war and peace treaties. This was how Roald found them when he wandered in an hour before midday. Gwen turned to smile at him when Sir Faleron paused their conversation to greet his friend. At least Roald looked rested.

"You're lecturing my squire?" Roald demanded with a mock glare at Sir Faleron.

"Only because we couldn't find the work you've been making her slave over," Sir Faleron raised his hands in defense.

"That's because with the start of the meetings we," Roald waved a finger between Gwen and himself, "were relieved of our paperwork duties. We were moved onto diplomatic duties. And aren't they fun?"

"I'm glad you can find humor in it," Gwen rubbed at the bandages under her shirt. Roald rounded on her and didn't wait for permission to tug the shoulder of her shirt aside and lay a blue glowing hand over the bandages. "Sure, go ahead," Gwen sighed while Roald laughed.

"So, did the Prince who is too busy to sleep in actually sleep in?" Faleron asked when Roald withdrew his Gift from Gwen's shoulder.

"Not at all. I expected she'd be resting up so I was taking care of other business this morning." Gwen looked up at Roald. He had gone and done business without her. He had promised her that she would be involved in any business he did for her four years as his squire so that she could do her duty by him. He saw her look and laughed outright. "Not official business in the least, except the uniforms I took the liberty of getting for you and bringing to your room. However when I got there I saw you were missing I figured I'd better check here. I was really hoping to not find you working though. You could take a break, no one would be upset in the least."

"You got my note this morning about Sir Nikolas' message?" Sir Faleron cut in before she could think of a witty reply.

"Of course I did. I'm not at all surprised that Prince Edric wanted to come in person. When I brought it up to my father this morning he told me to carry on. I have his complete confidence in this. You would think that almost getting stabbed myself, getting my squire stabbed instead, and the Prince of Tusaine coming here to fix it would alert him that I might possibly need help." Roald threw himself down into his chair.

"Actually, you did well," Gwen finally cut in. "From what I heard last night, that Juris fellow riled up the other two and became the ring leader in the tension in that room. He probably also planned that half assed assassination attempt when he realized that war wasn't about to happen and war wasn't about to happen because Nik was the one in charge." She saw Roald mouth 'Nic?' to Sir Faleron attempting to not be obvious and Sir Faleron start to chuckle. Gwen rolled her eyes and continued. "And Nik was under orders to avoid war. An assassination by a diplomat would be an excellent cause for Tortall to go to war with Tusaine. And it makes sense that Prince Edric is coming to clean up his side because you held your side together well enough that none of your people retaliated and held off on inciting comments that could have caused more of an issue. You held together, Tusaine's side didn't. They need someone with more authority to come in, you don't. You've done just fine," Gwen crossed her arms. "As for me getting stabbed, well, why ask me to be your squire if you didn't expect me to put my life on the line for you?"

"She's right, you know," Sir Faleron grinned and sat back in his chair. "You asked her to be your squire because she proved she could and would save your life by taking the injuries for you. It's just one more thing you did well. You could have had servants serve at that meeting but you had Gwen. And you had Gwen there because you wanted your squire nearby. Everything on our side worked exactly as it should. Don't go beating up on yourself because the other side didn't want to play nice, or really, one person on the other side didn't want to play nice."

"You two don't let me wallow," Roald complained.

"It's not good for you to wallow," Gwen informed him, making sure to keep her expression as bland as possible. "Now Sir Faleron," she turned back to the man who was trying just as hard to keep a bland expression. "Clearly the last treaty in place is the one we tend to follow, but do any terms set by previous treaties carry over?"

"Usually it has to be written in to the new treaty. That's why treaties tend to take a long time to write because all sides have to agree to the terms and all of the terms have to be laid out in writing each time in order to be agreed upon." Sir Faleron filled another cup of tea and set it over by Roald as he spoke.

"A good ruler, when coming up with the terms of a new treaty, will revisit the ideas of an old treaty and look for what didn't work, what the breech in terms was, so that the issues could be fixed. A treaty that just says 'we agree to return to everything as it was before this war' is only looking to repeat the problem," Roald added.

"That seems obvious to me," Gwen frowned. "I suppose it isn't to most since we see so much of people trying to go backwards instead of forwards." She sipped at her tea a moment and then looked up to Faleron again. "We forced King Ain in Tusaine to sign that treaty in 435 H.E. Doesn't that make it dishonorable?"

"We didn't exactly force him to sign. He signed because we had both of his brothers who ran the realm for him while he hid away. He made the decision that peace was worth their return. Now we played our odds knowing he didn't want to run the country himself and would likely give us peace for them. But no one held the quill in his hand or held him at sword point to sign," Faleron informed her.

"In all of my studies of wars the losing side is usually 'forced' to end for one reason or another. They might not have any money left in the treasury for such an expense and their own people will rebel if their treasuries are bled any more dry. There might be a blockade preventing supplies or that supplies run low, such as food and clean water, because armies eat a lot. Either there is peace or the people starve to death. Such is the case with any sort of siege. They attack the walls and block food and fresh water. One or the other gives out over time. They may just run out of warriors to fight and leave themselves a country of children and elderly. The Scanran War that was recently won on our side only had the treaty signed because King Maggur was hunted by his own people and they were less interested in us. So the people's loss in interest is another reason to end. If your people aren't behind your decisions as a ruler, they won't fund them or will go out of their way to make that particular venture fail. The only time I believe a treaty is fully coerced in any way is when a ruler is physically forced to sign." Roald offered up.

"Oh," she turned the information over in her mind. He was right. King Ain probably had let his brothers get him into that war and then they themselves got caught. If he really didn't want to rule without them, peace was a small price to pay. And really, was war ever honorable? All people did was come up with new ways to kill and hurt each other to get what they wanted. It was simpler than diplomacy but still what honor was there in holding food and water from a walled town in hopes they would starve into a forfeit? Rather than dwell on it anymore she turned to Roald. "Any idea when Prince Edric will be arriving?"

"No, I'm going to get a Company of the Own out to the border though in order to meet him and escort him in. I stopped by Sir Nikolas' room to get an estimate but it depends on the weather and road conditions and how soon an escort can be assembled. At any rate it could be a week before he gets to the border. Lord Raoul is ready to send Third Company out tomorrow morning with Sir Nikolas joining them." Roald adjusted the papers on his desk and then gave a sly glance in Gwen's direction. "I was thinking that perhaps you'd like to ride with."

"And are you going?" Gwen narrowed her eyes on her knight master. She assumed he wasn't because if the heir was going anywhere there would have to be some sort of chaotic preparations and so far the palace was quiet this morning.

"No, I was planning on getting things set up here. But it might be a good opportunity for you to ride out with the Own and experience their part in the realm's diplomacy. We are working on all forms of diplomacy." Roald urged.

"If you are not going then I am not going," Gwen told him. "Someone needs to be here to keep an eye on you."

"I can keep an eye on myself, you know. I am a trained knight as well as a mage," Roald informed her. She knew he was right but she didn't feel comfortable so close after an attack just walking away. Even if Roald was safe from physical attack he was liable to work himself to death getting things ready for Prince Edric. He was also likely to go back to blaming himself without someone to snap him out of it. While Sir Faleron seemed like the type to snap him out of his self-blaming, it was unlikely he'd stop Roald from working himself to the bone. He respected Roald too much to drug his tea or drag him away from the mountains of paperwork and the stressful lists that piled up. And there was the fact Roald seemed to be thinking that dangling Nik in front of her was a way to get her to go. That certainly wasn't going to work. Nik was interesting but she wasn't going to abandon Roald for him. But Roald wouldn't let her say she wasn't going in order to take care of him. She would have to play it like she didn't want to go for her own health. He had seen her shoulder he would have to know it would pain her some for a few days.

"I'd feel better being here than traveling right now," she made sure to rub the place on her shoulder where the bandage was still in place. She watched both Sir Faleron and Roald follow her hand and a look of guilt passed over Roald's face. She didn't want him to feel guilty, she just didn't want him to send her to the border for over a week. "Oh, and I'm not cleared for weapons practice for another week at least. I would feel terrible if we did confront something and I wasn't able to help or if I reinjured the area being forced to help out of circumstance."

"Alright, no traveling," Roald conceded. "But you're still learning some diplomacy."

"I think she has the manipulation part down. And from what I saw of her dealing with Sir Nikolas last night, she's got the charm part down too. All you need to teach her is to talk in circles and she'll be ready to ship out." Sir Faleron ducked as she balled up the paper in front of her and threw it at him before all three of them broke down and laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

The gossip at the palace was exceptionally busy in the week and a half it took for Prince Edric to arrive. Juris had been escorted to the border and Prince Edric had sent him back to Tusaine's capital to be dealt with. That all of court knew there had been another attempt on Roald's life and that it was clear there had been a rogue assassin within Tusaine's diplomats had made Roald's life much easier. Even the conservatives had held their tongues about his supposed competence. So there was no surprise that when Prince Edric rode through the gates with Sir Nikolas and Third Company of the King's Own that Roald was waiting with Sir Faleron, Sir Neal, Lady Knight Kel, and his squire at his side to greet them.

"Your Highness," Sir Nikolas led Prince Edric over. Gwen looked him over with a bit of interest. Prince Edric was dirty blond with light blue eyes. His riding clothes, that while dirty, were of the highest quality and overly decorated with embroidery. Roald's clothes were of the best quality but he saved the overly decorated pompous looking outfits for balls and feasts where he was displaying the wealth of the kingdom. Today he was dressed in a silver silk shirt with a blue velvet tunic which looked very rich but not at all overly done. The clothing that Prince Edric was wearing had to be riding clothes. Nik seemed to follow her gaze to the intricate gold and silver embroidery on Prince Edric's sleeves and tunic and leaned over to whisper in the Prince's ear. Both smiled and she fought down a blush.

"Your Highness, this is Prince Roald of Conte, Heir to the Kingdom of Tortall, Sir Nealan of Queenscove, Sir Faleron of King's Reach, and Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan." Nik introduced everyone in order of rank though none of them had inherited their lands or titles yet. Gwen had to give him credit for knowing their future rankings.

"And this must be the Lady Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood who so nobly took the blade that was meant for my cousin," Prince Edric turned to Gwen and she bowed to the degree that was required for a Prince. She knew by cousin he meant Roald just as every royal called another royal 'cousin'. For some countries it was true. Monarchs had a tendency of marrying their children only to other royal blood lines which were few. Only the distant countries on the continent could probably claim enough dilution to the blood lines to not biologically be cousins anymore.

"Squire Gwendolyn has shown an aptitude for taking weapons for me. An aptitude I'm sure her own family dislikes me for," Roald offered a hand to Edric. The two of them grasped hands.

"An aptitude I'm sure you're grateful for nonetheless. I'd be only so lucky to have such a devoted person in my court, let alone such a beautiful young lady." Edric flashed Gwen another smile. She wanted to roll her eyes at the obvious flirt but that would be ignoring diplomacy which she had been schooled in for the last week and a half. There were points in that time that she wished she had gone with Third Company to the border. Now seeing that she would have been trapped between Nik and Prince Edric she knew she had made the right call.

"You are too kind, your Highness," she bowed again. She kept her eyes lowered as she rose hoping that she wouldn't spark anymore flirts if she avoided eye contact.

"Perhaps you'd like to get settled into your rooms. Sir Nikolas, we've kept your rooms as they were," Roald stepped aside and turned to lead them all into the palace. Nik followed and Neal and Kel followed in behind that. When they were far enough ahead Faleron threw an arm around her shoulders to steer her inside.

"Does everyone in Tusaine flirt like that?" Gwen demanded when she knew they were far enough behind.

"Only when they see a pretty lady. They can't resist." Faleron laughed when she looked disgusted but then she turned to him with a better idea.

"They'd have a great time trying to charm the ladies your mother trains. Send her a letter telling her that we have a Prince here and his very eligible best friend." Now it was Faleron's turn to pull a face.

"You would torture them so?" He demanded.

"Now now, the Countess of King's Reach only trains the most beautiful, most blue blooded ladies. They would revel in the flirting. The ladies that is. And well the men, they would get fawned over enough that I could slip away unnoticed." Gwen chuckled.

"You really don't like fuss and flirting at all do you?"

"A little is fine but the excessiveness that you see at the Convent, with trained ladies, or with the inner circle of Tusaine's court is a little much for me." She gave a mock shiver.

"You are a treat," Faleron told her, giving her one firm squeeze about the shoulders and then letting go. She suppressed a giggle that had formed in her throat. Her sister, Aurelia, had just sent a letter in response to the one she had sent her parents describing her daily routine with Roald and his friends. She had mentioned Sir Faleron was taking an active part in some of her education. Now Aurelia was asking about what he was like, and to describe how handsome he was. She asked if he was courting anyone and expressed how lucky Gwen was for being able to even be in the same room as him. If Gwen told her that Sir Faleron had given her a quick side hug and had called her a treat Aurelia would probably fall over herself to get to the palace. On the other hand if she told Aurelia that Faleron had only said so because she disliked flirting and fussing, she'd believe Gwen was lying. That gave her a good clue as to why an eligible bachelor that was able to make a love match, had yet to do so.

Later that afternoon Gwen sat on a stool in the corner of a conference room with the drink cart next to her. Roald had insisted she sit on a stool rather than stand for as long as the meeting might take because he didn't want to look like a torturer. She was supposed to have set all of the places at the table with their respective cups and drinks but things were running behind. Nik and Prince Edric weren't in the conference room and Neal had been sent to retrieve them. But that had been nearly half an hour before and Gwen had already sent the drink cart out to be replaced with a fresh cart with hot tea once and she was considering doing it again. And after testing the temperature of the water again she finally broke and wheeled the cart to the door. She met the serving man at the door and he gave her a little smile and switched her cart out with a fresh one that he had brought.

"And here we are," Neal announced walking both Prince Edric and Nik into the room. Faleron, Kel, and Roald broke off their conversation to stand and introduce themselves properly to Prince Edric.

"And of course, my squire, Gwen, will be serving us," Roald stepped aside so everyone could see Gwen busily getting cups ready.

"Ah yes, the beautiful Lady Squire Gwendolyn," Prince Edric swept a bow in her direction. "Cousin, I have a gift for your squire if you were permit?"

"A gift for Gwen?" Gwen could hear Roald's confusion and she herself was confused. At least he was following protocol and asking Roald's permission to formally approach her.

"It was my understanding that the lady was the one to react and save Tusaine from a war we don't want or need," Edric pressed. "That deserves a reward, does it not?"

"When put that way…" Gwen kept her back to them but she could hear the resignation in Roald's tone. Not that he wouldn't want her to receive a gift but he also knew she had refused gifts flat out from him both times she had taken weapons for him. The only gift she had accepted easily was to be his squire. They had talked about this for many hours the last week as she had practiced her diplomacy skills on him in particular. That she might have to accept a gift from Edric was not a possibility either of them had considered. And if she turned him down it could be cause for tension. Why did people have to give gifts to show gratitude? Gratitude was fine by itself!

"You don't want her to have a gift from Tusaine?" Nik cut in picking up on the tone.

"It's nothing to take personally, Highness, Prince Roald has tried several times to give gifts to Gwen as tokens of gratitude for her heroism. She's turned him down every time," Faleron supplied.

"I see," Edric replied. "But if Squire Gwendolyn I might have your attention for a brief moment." She turned to face the room but kept her eyes lowered. She did not want to see his face or Nik's face or anyone's face as she was forced to take a gift she didn't want. "This is for you, on behalf of Tusaine. It's not nearly as much as I wanted to do but I was a little crunched for time." He handed over a scroll to her that was dripping with the Tusaine seal. She opened it knowing she was expected to and began to read the elegant script. After a moment she rolled up the scroll and shook her head.

"Gwen," Roald's voice held a bit of an edge, a warning to her that she couldn't refuse.

"I am honored," Gwen managed to squeeze out of a suddenly tight throat. "Truly honored. I am humbled by your generosity and completely undeserving." She bowed her head knowing she had to say such things.

"You are deserving of such a gift," Edric told her sounding as regal as possible. "Shall we get on with the meeting?" He had turned away from Gwen to the others and she was able to turn with her suddenly hot face still facing the ground.

The scroll he had handed her had detailed quiet a large amount of jewels, rolls of expensive cloth most likely earmarked for finery, and to top it off a large sum of money. By accepting this gift she was an heiress in her right as much as she didn't want the gift and didn't want the title of heiress she knew there was no diplomatic way to say 'no'.

Almost mechanically she managed to serve tea and dinner without giving much mind to the meeting going on. Her mind was completely occupied. Had she allowed Roald to properly thank her for taking arrows and then a dagger for him, she would have seen this sort of wealth sooner. It would have been on her terms. But instead she had been blindsided by this diplomatic need to please the other side though they were viewing her as a hero for something she hadn't intended. She hadn't put herself in the path of that dagger to protect Tusaine from a war. She was simply protecting Roald as was her duty as his squire and as a warrior of Tortall. The reward complicated things certainly. Most of the fiefs had felt the sting of war on their treasuries. Marrying an heiress would help ease that sting and it wouldn't matter so much if she was a squire or a knight when they pursued her as it did when she was the errant youngest daughter of a small woodland fief. Most women would think that was a good thing but she hated the fuss of courtship and how women were expected to behave during courtship. And if her status as heiress went public she would be pursued either by greedy men or by men under their parents' orders.

"We're taking a break," Roald's voice was right next to her ear and she nearly jumped. She didn't realize she had been staring at the pot of tea so long while thinking that she had missed they were taking a short break and Roald's approach.

"Oh, I'll clean up then," she turned to look at the table to find the cups were already being taken care of by a servant and everyone else already gone.

"I figured you and I could talk," he nodded to the scroll. "I don't like being shown up by another country to my own squire."

"I don't want any of it," she heard her voice break as she said it and to her shame she felt tears forming in her eyes. She hated that she was not able to say no.

"Shh." Roald pulled out his own handkerchief and handed it to her. While she tried to stop the flow of tears, he took the scroll from its place on the drink cart and read through it. When he was done he whistled and rolled the scroll back up. "What are you going to do with such riches?" She meant to come up with something witty but she couldn't. She was too stressed to come up with humor in the situation that was stressing her. Instead she buried her face in the handkerchief. "Okay, you're obviously in need of a break. I don't want to see you for the rest of tonight. Go back to your room. Take a long bath. Get some sleep. Don't think about this." He tapped the scroll. "Tuck it away in your desk and don't look at it."

"Yes Highness," she tried to bow but he stopped her.

"Do you want me to walk you back to your room so no one bothers you?" Roald's voice bordered on brotherly. She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice. It would be nice to soak in a hot bath and perhaps she could even ignore the long list of items detailed in the scroll. She turned to go out of the door still clutching the handkerchief with the scroll tucked into her belt.

"Gwen?" She heard someone call as she brushed past a group of people with her eyes on the ground. She didn't want to talk to anyone mostly because she was ashamed of how upset she was over something that shouldn't be upsetting. Not even she could really describe why she was so upset.

Roald watched her go with a frown as his friends reappeared.

"What's wrong with Gwen?" Neal asked pointing in the direction she had gone.

"She's an heiress now and I think she's in shock," Roald sat down in his place. "I'm afraid I'll have to distress her further."

"I thought she told you no to all rewards for her actions," Faleron went to tend to the drink cart and fill his own cup as well as Roald's.

"She did, but that was after I had her gift set into motion. I do have to say, she'll have more use for my gifts than the jewels, expensive bolts of cloth, and enough money to buy a small country for herself." Roald watched his friends process that information.

"Poor woman," Neal's sarcasm wasn't missed. "All she wanted was a simple life as a warrior and you all keep shoving complicated riches down her throat."

"Is there anything you can do to get him to curb the amount or take it back?" Faleron asked. "A gift shouldn't bring someone to tears of distress."

"What sort of gift brings tears of distress?" Edric asked coming into the room with Sir Nikolas.

"To make the answer very simple," Neal turned to them. "Yours."


	14. Chapter 14

Unknown to most of court the monarchs that had built the indoor practice courts had added a small room above the courts that looked down over everything. The windows were shielded by decorated wire screens that kept stray arrows and bolts away from the box and kept the room unnoticeable. The idea had been that the royalty could look down over their warriors training without being conspicuous. This showed the monarchs what their warriors were truly capable of and were truly like without anyone of authority watching. There was no showing off except to each other and even that was rare. Over time spells had been layered inside of the box to keep noise from leaking out though it did come in and spells to add further protection from stray weapons and from being seen. It was also one of the many places a king or queen could escape and hide in should the palace be attacked.

It was in this room that Roald stood looking down on Gwen alone in the practice courts early in the morning. He hadn't expected to find anyone in the courts just after the sun had risen and had been completely surprised to see Gwen come in with her orange-golden bow. Rather than go down and make his presence known, he waited and watched as she strung her bow and started to shoot. He had to admit, her aptitude for the bow was only second to Daine the Wildmage. He suspected Daine's ability was partially because of her father's divine blood in her veins. But from everything Gwen's previous teachers had said to him and her parents had written to him telling him she had shown talent with the bow from a young age. She was fast, accurate, and as he watched, she quickly and accurately switched between multiple targets. If he had seen anyone else doing such a thing, he would think they were showing off. But watching Gwen doing it in the morning when no one else was in the courts and when she believed no one was watching, he realized she was doing this only for herself.

He guessed it was likely she was working through the thoughts about the gift she had received from Tusaine. While Prince Edric fully understood that Gwen was upset by his gift and not in a happy way, he was unable to reduce the gift or take it back completely. The gift, he had explained to both Roald and then again to Gwen the next morning, had come from not only from the royalty of Tusaine but also from multiple high standing fiefs. His hands were tied by duty to those fiefs. Should he return the gifts to their givers, they would be believe she wasn't satisfied with the gifts and would probably be so insulted they might reconsider their relations with Tortall. Gwen had understood completely and had even made an effort to look through everything as it was delivered to her rooms from the wagons that had followed Edric to Tortall two days after his arrival. Now another day after that he was looking at her shooting through her quiver three times over in ten minutes.

Roald heard the door open and then close again and he smiled. He was actually up in the observation room to show Edric one of the few things that kept him abreast of his warriors. Glancing back he could see Faleron showing Edric and Nikolas into the room.

"Any warriors up early enough this morning for us to see Tortall's might and prowess?" Edric teased as they came over to see what Roald was looking at.

"Just one crazy young woman," Roald nodded to Gwen as she retrieved her arrows from the targets.

"Is that Gwen?" Faleron asked sounding a bit surprised.

"I was surprised she was here too," Roald sighed.

"You can tell that's your squire from up here?" Edric pressed.

"If you can't tell it's Gwen by looking at her you look to her bow," Faleron nodded to the glow of wood in her hands.

"That's an interesting bow," Nikolas leaned against the window to get a better look.

"A gift from her parents. Made of osage wood, I believe," Roald supplied as Gwen stamped to a place further back from where she had stood the first time. As she raised her bow again Roald heard a sharp intake of breath from both Edric and Nikolas. She made an impressive sight with her flame colored bow and the blur that was her arm pulling arrows from her quiver at the same speed she shot them.

"She's very good," Nikolas said finally.

"More than very good. I don't believe we have any to rival her," Edric muttered. "All the more reason I'm glad she protected us from a war."

"I'm afraid I'll have to upset her practice here in a few minutes though," Roald ignored Edric's comment. He had been told, by Gwen, that she hadn't given the slightest thought to Tusaine when she had taken the dagger. That Edric still kept making it sound like Gwen had intentionally saved Tusaine made Roald think that Edric had made her up to be a hero to his people and he wanted to keep the image going. But Roald knew it would do better to keep the illusion going in his own mind now so that he didn't slip when he went home.

"You need her to serve at yet another meeting?" Nikolas rolled his eyes.

"Actually. I had some armor made for her that she was not aware of, as a gift for protecting me. And it's being delivered in about half an hour and I want her to be the first to see it once it's set up." Roald turned to go to the door.

"You had armor made? But you already saw to her kit. She's completely set on her armor. And she's unlikely to grow anymore." Faleron followed him.

"This is different. You'll see," Roald went down the stairs and was aware he was being followed by not only Roald but also Edric and Nikolas. It didn't hurt, he supposed for them to see what sort of generosity Gwen might actually appreciate.

Gwen stopped shooting the moment Roald entered the practice courts. He believed she must have some sort of sense that told her when he was near because she almost always was aware of him the exact second he entered the room. She bowed to him when she saw his company. While they had eliminated bowing on a normal basis between the two of them, she did still bow when they were in the company of others that it would matter to or to mock him. He assumed this was the former rather than the latter as it was too early for him to have said anything for her to have mocked.

"Ah, there she is," Roald told the others as he walked towards her, trying to clearly tell them all they were to pretend as if they hadn't seen her at all yet. "I have something I need you to assist me with, dear squire," Roald informed Gwen as she rose from her bow and unstrung her bow.

"What can I assist you with, Highness?" She didn't look remotely annoyed at the interruption to her practice though Roald supposed she had to be slightly annoyed. He would be if he had come down to work alone for a while and was interrupted within twenty minutes.

"Something only you can do, I think. If you would collect your arrows and join us?" He nodded to the targets and she bowed before trotting off to the targets to reclaim the quiverful of arrows that were embedded a little over a hundred yards out. When she came back she blushed a little.

"Perhaps I should change out of my practice gear?" She asked avoiding looking at anyone but Roald.

"There is no need. Once you have done this one thing for me I believe you may take the rest of the day off." He waited for a few seconds while she just stared at him. He knew she hated time off and he was waiting for her to argue with him. But her one glance at the rest of his company told him she wasn't about to usurp his position above her while in the presence of foreign royalty.

"As you wish," she managed before he turned to lead her out.

Roald had labored hard over what to do for Gwen when she wanted no acknowledgement of her two separate attempts to protect him. The idea had been just an idea until what he was now referring to as the Diplomatic Incident. The morning after that he had gone down to Corus to put in his order and make his specifications from the Raven Armory. Since he was the Crowned Prince, they had pushed his order through as quickly as possible. He had received word the previous day it was ready and could arrive this particular morning. He had sent back the time and place he expected them and all he had had to do was collect Gwen.

Now, arriving at his study with so many people in tow, Roald peeked into the room and saw that his order had already arrived and was set up waiting on an armor rack. An attendant from the armory was also waiting to make any adjustments that were needed. Roald closed the door quickly before anyone else could see inside and then pulled Gwen aside from the rest of the group.

"I know you hate thank yous," he started softly. Immediately the steel filled her eyes that usually marked the moment right before she became her most stubborn. "Especially now that Tusaine has thanked you to your breaking point. However," he took her hand and held onto it as if he were beseeching her, "I don't want to thank you on behalf of Tortall or anything like that. Gwen, you lost touch with your life for a few moments after taking those arrows for me. And then you did something just as crazy again in that meeting a few weeks ago. I want to thank you on behalf of myself, my wife, and my children. This is a personal thank you and I think you'll like it if you just give it a chance, okay?" He waited almost breathless for a moment as Gwen just stared at him, her blue eyes huge and her lips slightly parted in shock. Then she shook herself out of it and squeezed his hands with hers and gave him her small smile.

"I don't know what to say," she told him after a moment.

"Now there's a shock," Roald watched her roll her eyes and then slung an arm around her shoulder. "But just wait until you see it. Then you might have something to say." He pushed her back up to the door and gave her a nudge to open it. Her gasp as her eyes fell on the armor stand filled his heart with pride and he couldn't contain his smile as she walked into the room without him giving her any further pushes and watched her circle the armor.

Gwen had been set on chainmail and plate mail armor. This was a different sort of armor altogether. The lining of this set of armor was supple leather so soft that it would never chafe her skin the way wool tended to do to anyone. The lining also protected her skin from a very thin layer of steel that would protect her from most far ranged arrows. The outer layer was a conditioned thick leather of the darkest brown that existed before going into black. It was then embossed with a pattern of ivy leaves over the jerkin, pauldrons, bracers, gauntlets, cuisses, and greaves. The pauldrons themselves were shaped over the shoulders like leaves. The breastplate ended at her waist and then had a short skirt made of two panels of the same thick leather in the front, split in the middle and at her hips and then a panel of the soft leather lining in the back. The whole set was of the best quality anyone could buy as Raven Armory was one of the best armor and weapon producers in their known world.

"It's not up for most hard battles," the attendant told her as she dared to stroke the decorative line that the pauldron made over the chest piece.

"It's perfect for woods work," she whispered as she traced the design of one of the leaves. "And it's so… feminine without being feminine," she turned to Roald and he didn't need to hear her say thank you to know she was exceptionally grateful.

"It's made to fit you specifically, with a few minor adjustments to allow for clothing under." Roald told her stepping forward to join her inspection. "And I thought it would be nice to marry your two worlds of lady and knight."

"It's beautiful," Gwen's voice was utterly sincere. "Is it possible to try it on?"

"I insist," Roald told her and nodded to the attendant. Roald saw Gwen's bow and quiver plucked from her hands and turned to see Faleron assuring Gwen they would be safe in his hold. Piece by piece Gwen was armored up. A mirror was rolled out from its forgotten corner in the study and Gwen was able to look herself over. She only looked for a few moments before turning to face Roald again and consequently, everyone else in the room. Roald savored the look of awe that was on Edric's and Nikolas' face while he saw the same look of pride on Faleron's face he was sure he wore himself. Gwen looked right in the armor. The armor may have been made to fit her but he hadn't been so aware that it would be so fitting of her as well.

"It's so light!" She commented, interrupting his thoughts.

"Aye, it's made to be that way. You'll be carrying enough weight with weapons," the attendant told her as he circled her. "You're missing one piece," he told her and when she touched at her head he shook his in response. "A helm is also missing but I was referring to the belt which you will hang your weapons on." He went back to the boxes and pulled out a two inch wide leather belt with a plain silver hoop for a fastener. Deftly the man wrapped it around her waist and fastened it for her. "With how much his Highness spent, we thought we'd add one for you, at no cost."

"I don't anticipate you needing a helm right now with this set. And I didn't have your size specifications on your pretty head," Roald informed her. "You did wonders with what I asked of you," he told the attendant. "Thank you."

"Do you anticipate any adjustments being needed?" The attendant asked Gwen directly. She did some test movements and then shook her head. "Perfect. I'll be taking my leave then," he turned to leave but stopped for only a moment when Roald pressed a small purse of coins into his hands. He bowed and then left the room. Gwen had turned back to the mirror.

"So as I said, you have the day off," Roald told Gwen while she was distracted.

"Perhaps I'll do some shopping. Midwinter is closing in," she sighed and then turned back to Roald. "I can't thank you enough. I'll be the envy of Merrywood."

"You'll be the envy of many," Edric seemed to have finally found his voice.

"I suppose I'd better take it off so I can go then," Gwen sighed and let Roald help her take off the pieces. "It's such a shame I can't wear it all of the time." Roald almost replied but he heard a muffled laugh and turned to see Faleron stuffing his fist into the mouth to mute himself.

"What's so funny?" Roald demanded.

"That is the first thing I have ever heard you say that reminded me of a lady from the Convent," Faleron chuckled. "When they get fitted for their ball gowns."

"Oh you!" Gwen flapped her hand at him and then started to laugh herself.

"And what does Sir Faleron know of ladies when they are fitted for their gowns?" Nikolas asked. "You are not married that I can see."

"Oh no. But Sir Faleron's mother trains ladies who are less suited the Convent due to their status or upbringing." Roald added. "And he happens to be one of the most eligible bachelors at court. He's constantly being invited to accompany ladies to events. Dress fittings, parties, balls, private tea..."

"Such a hard life," Gwen teased as she stripped off the breast plate. "Women fawning over you left and right wanting you to make them the next Countess of King's Reach."

"You, of all people, know exactly what I face," Faleron told her with mock hurt.

"I do. And I apologize for my lack of sympathy." Roald watched as Gwen even managed a sincere look for a moment. "Those types of Ladies are extremely annoying at best."

"I don't understand," Nikolas looked between Gwen and Faleron. "You're a Lady." He looked to Gwen and she could only smile and shake her head.

"Gwen is and isn't a Lady. She trained for two years at the Convent and then came to court to start as a page. She retains some of those lady like tendencies and habits without caring for the overall culture of being a lady," Roald explained.

"Very diplomatically explained," Gwen nodded to the image in the mirror.

"Which explains why you can shame a man like no other and yet can look so right in armor," Edric elbowed Nikolas, "right?"

"The armor looks divine," Nikolas nodded to the pieces she was taking off.

"Oh I have the afternoon off!" Gwen turned to look directly at Nikolas. "Perhaps you'd like to have that dinner? I did tell you we could reschedule."

Roald watched Nikolas hesitated and then a smiled when Edric elbowed him again. "I'd love to have dinner tonight."

"Great!"

Gwen left the room a few minutes later after Roald promised her that the armor would be delivered to her rooms and she was free for the day. After she left Edric turned to Nikolas.

"What was that about? I thought you liked her. Now you're hesitating when she offers you the chance to join her for dinner?"

"I don't know. She's not like any other woman I've taken to dinner. She's..." Nikolas swept a hand through his hair. "Is she going to wear a gown? Breeches? Where do I take a woman in breeches?"

"You take her some place nice because if you like her you treat her right," Roald had a hard time keeping the coolness out of his voice. If Sir Nikolas couldn't look past what type of clothes Gwen wore to who Gwen actually was, he didn't deserve to take her anywhere.

"I know a number of good places in Corus. I've been to enough eating houses to know which are the good ones now." Faleron slung a friendly arm around Nikolas to steer him out of the room. "There's a great place just off of the temple district that serves the best mutton."

"If he wasn't scared off of her before, you're a pretty good deterrent," Edric informed Roald after they had gone.

"Hmmmm?"

"That warning you gave issued frost." Edric laughed. "Don't bite his head off. He's never gone after a girl like Gwen before. Everything he knows about women is both relevant and irrelevant. For a man who is used to women falling all over him and knowing exactly how to charm and please them, Gwen is an enigma. Either he'll figure it out or he'll leave her alone." Edric patted his shoulder and then followed suit of Faleron and Nikolas and made his way out of the study.

"I just hope she doesn't get too hurt if it comes down to him leaving her alone," Roald told armor rack and then went to summon a servant to have it delivered to Gwen's room.


	15. Chapter 15

Gwen stood at the base of the statue of King Jasson that sat at the bottom of the stairs that led down from the palace into the city. The note she had received from Nik just before midday had told her to meet him five bells after midday. The note had told her where to meet him and to dress nice because he was taking her someplace very nice. So she had dressed in her best clothes: a pale pink silk blouse with feminine cut dark gray breeches and heeled black boots. She had painted up her face a little and had braided her hair back. In her ears she had put in light pink pearl earbobs that had been a part of the gift from Tusaine. Over all of it she was wearing a simple kimono style coat in the same dark gray as her breeches to protect her from the bitter wind that had picked up with the onset of winter. From the looks she was receiving from other people waiting at the statue, she believed she looked at least nice.

The bell from up at the palace tolled loud enough to hear down where she was standing and she heard it toll five times and she looked around looking to see Nik somewhere.

"Does the Prince know his gem of a squire is lighting up the statue of his great-grandfather with her beautiful presence?" Gwen turned to look at the speaker thinking it was Nik but when she turned she saw Captain Domitan of Masbolle with Lady Knight Keladry tucked firmed against him with his arm around her. She bowed to both of them and gave them a smile.

"His Highness gave me the day off," she informed them.

"And you figured you'd just stand here and let everyone see how beautiful you are?" Dom teased before Kel could elbow him.

"She's obviously waiting for someone," Kel's normally blank face was amused as Dom rolled his eyes. Gwen liked their banter. "Well, I hope he's worth your effort."

"Thank you, Lady Knight," Gwen bowed again and scanned the steps finding them empty of Nik. She waved good bye to the happy couple and continued to scan the crowds.

Five minutes passed and she chuckled to herself about men complaining about women being late by fussing and primping in front of the mirror. She guessed Nik was the type of man to primp for over an hour for a simple dinner. It wasn't even like he needed to impress her. This was a debt he owed her. He had said before he had gone to get Edric that he owed her a dinner for failure to be a good host. All that really mattered to her was that he avoided asking her about Roald and the work she was involved in with him. And as five minutes changed to fifteen and she continued to scan the crowds, she laughed inside about how gentlemen were liars and they were just as bad as most ladies in how long they took to look pretty. She intended to tease him mercilessly about keeping her waiting. And thoughts of what she would say to tease him carried her from fifteen minutes to half a bell. Her coat was good quality but she was starting to get chilled waiting in the wind and she was hungry. She had held off on eating much for midday so she would be hungry enough to eat a nice dinner.

How long was too long to wait before she was allowed to give up? The Convent would tell a lady that for a man of Nik's caliber, she should continue to wait. However, at the Convent it was usually the training of a lady to make the man wait. And in page training they had not covered this particular information in deportment with Master Oakbridge. As far as Master Oakbridge was concerned when the boys asked questions about ladies and protocol with them, they were supposed to bow properly, be polite, and ask their mothers and sisters for better information. Though he had blushed when he had given that speech. Did Aurelia ever have to wait on a man? Or her mother? Had she ever seen her father keep her mother waiting?

Yes once she had seen her father keep her mother waiting but that was a family dinner and there had been a crisis, and her father had not been able to send a note or messenger saying he would be late. They had waited for one hour for him to arrive before her mother had allowed the servants to serve her children and had gone looking for her husband herself. Did she dare wait a whole hour for a man to take her out to dinner? It seemed silly, her waiting at the base of the statue this long. People were starting to give her looks of pity as time rolled from half a bell to quarter to the sixth bell.

Perhaps she had been too bold. Her sister had warned her that it would scare men away, her boldness. That men didn't like a woman who was so forward with them. She was supposed to let the men make the plans, ask the questions, bring up events for her to join him at. But this had been a different circumstance. She was a squire and this was her only free evening that she was aware of. With Midwinter around the corner she'd be swamped with parties and catching up on whatever other work during the daytime. Roald had a big hand in planning this year's events already and she herself had looked over the numbers for food, wine, staffing, and entertainment. She had been involved in writing up orders to palace suppliers and had seen the costs of what the Crown paid to entertain their royalty at nightly feasts and parties after. They were about to be really busy. So she had seen the opportunity to attend a dinner she had agreed to before and would not allow to become her own debt of promise.

The sixth bell of the evening brought her back to her senses. Her fingers were going numb with the cold and her nose was starting to feel a bit sniffly as it did when she had been cold for too long. With a last glance at the steps she adjusted her coat, squared her shoulders, and turned to walk into the city. She had said she would enjoy an evening outside of the palace and she would enjoy one, without the company of Nik it would seem. Not that she had planned for the occasion of being stood up, but she had brought with her a substantial amount of money in several coin purses in case they wanted to walk around some first. She didn't usually shop but she did need to find several Midwinter gifts. She planted a smile on her face and let shopkeepers show her their best wares while listening to them tell her it was a shame such a pretty lady was shopping alone.

The next morning she walked into Roald's study just after dawn and began to straighten up the little bit of clutter that he had. She had gone back to her room the night before hoping to find a note or something that had explained his absence. She had written one of her own explaining that she had stood in the meeting spot until the sixth bell and then had decided something more important must have come up so she left. She had sent her note hoping that if he had arrived after that time, then she had an explanation for him, as was the decent thing to do.

"Don't you ever sleep in?" Roald demanded as he walked into the study.

"Good morning to you too, your Highness," Gwen rolled her eyes. "And I was operating under the assumption that I had yesterday off, not this morning so I should be here on time."

"On time is in an hour, after I've eaten breakfast," Roald informed her.

"You normally take breakfast here," she told him. "So I ordered it in for you on my way in. It should be here soon."

"Why aren't you just helpful today," Roald sat down at his desk but his eyes remained on her as she put away some books that were off of the shelf. "How was your dinner last night?"

"It was alright," Gwen wasn't lying. Her dinner had been alright. She had gone to an eating house alone and had enjoyed a meal of chicken stuffed dumplings and sweet potatoes. She had even enjoyed a small goblet of wine that had been bought for her by a gentleman who had seen her eating alone. Roald had not asked how her dinner with Nik had been. But she didn't want him to ask more questions about dinner so she added, "I managed to get some shopping done too."

"Getting ready for Midwinter?" Roald probably didn't even realize he had taken her cue and had followed her down a whole different conversation path.

"I figured I should since we'll be so busy getting ready for it. I'm just glad Master Oakbridge does the seating charts and someone else covers the decorations." She threw herself down into her chair.

"Well, I guess I get to start my morning by being the bearer of bad news," Roald dug through his top drawer where he kept his letters while Gwen just stared in horror at him.

"Not… the seating charts!" She couldn't keep the horror from her voice.

"No, oh Mithros and Goddess, no. Master Oakbridge would never, ever, ever release the duties of creating the seating charts while he still lives. And to my understanding, he is training an assistant for such events to take over for him when he finally perishes in the next century or two." Roald's joke was met with relief more than laughter from Gwen. "We just have to coordinate the decorating. And to do that, I've asked my beautiful wife and her ladies to come up with ideas. Ideas which they will report to you and you will try and calculate the quantities of what is needed and then you and I will spend one or two days only on getting things ordered. Once those things arrive, they are not our problem. They are Shinko's problem."

"I get the feeling that you really believe that." Gwen teased. She was glad that she could tease Roald. A knock on the door revealed a servant bearing a breakfast tray for Roald and a plate of apple stuffed cakes that the servants had become aware that she herself was particularly fond of though she didn't know who would have mentioned that to the servants or why they always insisted on bringing them when they brought other food.

"The tea you asked for is being brought, along with cider as well for you, Lady Squire," the servant bowed and retreated. She turned to give Roald an accusing look.

"Did you order up the cakes and cider?" She demanded.

"No," Roald was concealing a smile, she could see it. And she could see he was amused more than he should be.

"What do you know?" She rounded on him.

"Only that there are others in the palace that think you are to be treated with respect. And since you are always respectful to the servants, I think they are being nice." Roald explained. When she let out a small 'humpf' in response he gave her the same smile she was beginning to recognize as one he reserved only for when he was about to say something bad. "Also, for the record, it was Sir Faleron who informed them of your favorites."

"Sir Faleron!" She demanded.

"Hey, don't get me in trouble," the mentioned man walked through the door with his own stack of papers. "And they asked me," he told Gwen. "And Roald told me what to tell them."

"You're all against me!" She threw her hands up dramatically.

"You've spent far too much time with Sir Neal," Roald observed and all of them laughed. They settled about their work for the morning. Roald had more calculations for her to work on while he assisted Faleron with polite replies to ladies that his mother had sent his way.

"So Gwen, perhaps you'd like to tell me where Sir Nikolas decided on going last night. I suggested the Jugged Hare as a first choice but I gave him more options too," Faleron asked when she reached a stopping point and it had timed perfectly with him finishing a letter.

"Well," she tried to think of someway to walk around the truth but couldn't think of something that wouldn't be an outright lie. "Honestly," she blushed a little. "Nik didn't show."

"What?" Roald's head whipped around to fix his eyes on her.

"I waited for an hour where he told me to meet him and then I left, and went shopping and had a nice dinner on my own." She shrugged.

"And what was his reason for standing you up?" Faleron asked. Of course he assumed like she had that a note would have been waiting for her when she arrived back at the palace.

"I'm not aware of the reason," she shrugged and then stood to stretch for a moment. She had thought up a hundred reasons over the night where he had stood her up and had a good excuse. He had to have a good excuse because he was the one who proposed dinner in the first place and he wasn't the type to allow a lady to think he had ignored her and his duty to her. "I'm curious. I thought this up last night and I'm not sure the social protocol in such a situation. How long does one wait before they give up?"

"It depends on the person. But given that he set the time and place, I would say you waited too long by waiting an hour," Faleron told her. "And I personally, had I been in your situation, would be informing him of the social protocol of not standing someone up. I've had ladies stand me up before and I've informed them that they no longer are a consideration of my time."

"Well, diplomatically speaking, I can't deny him my time. And it wasn't like a romantic outing or anything. He asked for dinner to make up for that tea fiasco. I said I'd go and I don't go back on my word." She rolled her eyes when Roald and Faleron both gave her a look that showed neither of them believed her in the least. "Why must men complicate things that don't need to be complicated?" She demanded. "I'm going to go back to doing math now. It's simple compared to you two."

"Funny… that's how I feel about most women," Faleron gave a small chuckle and returned to his own work.


	16. Chapter 16

Roald sat across from Prince Edric while dining with his parents and his wife and children. Including Edric in the occasional family dinner had been a diplomatic move on his behalf simply to make the man feel more included like a cousin rather than an outsider. It was Roald's experience that men who felt included in the family often had moral issues with attempting to create issues with that group. As Edric was the future ruler of Tusaine, it would be well to be on completely familial terms with him when they both ascended to their thrones. To Gwen's pleasure, Roald had given her the night off because royal family dinners were served by trusted servants, not by squires. Roald's father had never included his squires in the dinners unless they came as a guest.

"So Roald," Edric smiled up at him. "Gwen must have been very pleased by dinner the other night. Nik didn't return to his rooms until well after dawn."

"If you are suggesting he stayed the night with Gwen, you are mistaken," Roald didn't like the idea that Edric had mentioned his squire possibly tumbling a man in front of anyone else, even if it was just his family.

"Oh come on, the two are well suited. They make a good pairing. She's old enough to make such decisions about her body," Edric flapped a hand at Roald.

"I have no doubts they'd make a good pair, but you are mistaken that he spent the night with Gwen. Gwen claims Nikolas never showed at the meeting place he told her to be at. She waited an hour before abandoning any hope he was coming. Where ever he was, it was not with my squire." Roald knew they had the attention of the table but the others were either too polite or too interested to interrupt.

"Oh, and you're sure she wasn't lying to save face?" Edric asked.

"Gwen was in my study ready to work half a bell after dawn and looked like she had been in there for a little while," Roald shrugged. "And she has no reason to lie to me. She knows I'm not about to judge her for what she does."

"Perhaps she let him sleep in, while she went on to pretend her charade of virginity was intact," Edric proposed.

"Did Sir Nikolas mention he slept with her?" Shinko inquired mildly. Roald knew from the moment that he had introduced Shinko to Edric that Edric was uneasy around her. She was indeed exceptionally beautiful, but she was also bland in the face giving him no way to understand what she was thinking. It unnerved him. And it unnerved him now as she brought up something important. "It is my understanding that men, and women, will admit to such things in close friendships. So perhaps he said he had spent the night in her rooms."

"Well, no, but," Edric stammered. Then it struck Roald that no one in their right mind brought a lover into the squire's wing to spend the night unless they wanted to be uncomfortable.

"It would have been noticeable if he did. The walls in the squire wing are thin and the beds are just single beds. He would have been uncomfortable, I'm sure, and all of the squire's wing and thus the rest of the palace would have known within five minutes." Roald explained. "Privacy as a squire is a blessing and a rarity."

"I shall have to ask him where they spent the night then," Edric's voice gave that he didn't want to have this conversation anymore. He was being proved wrong and his teasing was seemingly misplaced now though he had probably been so sure he was right. "So your squires have small rooms?"

"Not exactly small, but they aren't here for luxury treatment so they get their space to study and practice, not rest," Roald's mother Thayet offered. "Poor Gwen's room must be packed to the brim with those treasures."

"Yes, I believe she ran out of space long before they were done unloading," Roald turned his attention to his mother. "She's sending some of it home with a brother that is coming for Midwinter, I believe."

"And what does her family think of her being an heiress in her own right now?" Edric asked.

"I think she played it down to her family a little," Roald explained to the whole table. "She's afraid that when her parents hear she's getting rewarded for things like diverting a war, that they'll think she's endangering herself more than necessary and request her return home at once."

"And as an heiress they could marry her off to any fief to up their own status," Jonathon added. "Should they have a want to do that."

"But in our experience with Merrywood, they don't. And they have that other sister who is eighteen and unmarried still. They looked at a post for her for the Queen's Ladies," Thayet explained. "But she's no hand with weapons so she was denied."

"Had Gwen not become a page, I'm sure she'd be one of your ladies right now," Shinko smiled at her mother-in-law.

Talk the rest of the evening roamed over the different posts and how they were doing, the gossip amongst family, and stories that had happened to them throughout the last month or so. Roald knew that each person was monitoring how much they said in order to make sure Edric didn't leave with more than enough knowledge to take down the Conte line. Though by how involved Edric was with the stories and the telling of his own, it seemed unlikely.

When dinner ended everyone left but Roald saw his father signal for him to remain behind. He made his excuses to his wife and said farewell to Edric and refilled his cup of cider while he waited for his father to come around to whatever he was going to say. From how he was toying with his beard, Roald guessed it was about to be bad news. Since his father had forbidden the eldest of his sisters to become a page, he had been slow to deliver bad news. He would leave his victim sitting in a chair while he built up whatever defenses in his mind to protect himself from whatever he believed would come at him after. Roald wasn't known for his anger but his father knew how to push him into yelling. But after he had married Shinko, Roald had become much better at remaining calm when his father started to push the tension points.

"Prince Edric was wrong tonight…" his father started. "His friend, Sir Nikolas, couldn't have spent the night with your squire."

"Oh, and how do you know this?" Roald quirked an eyebrow over the top of his goblet. Jonathon sighed and took out a folded letter from his breeches and opened it.

"Your squire waited at the base of the statue of your great grandfather from between a quarter to the 5th bell and the stroke of the 6th bell. From there she left and went into Corus stopping at several stores. She stayed in each store for roughly ten to fifteen minutes and then left with parcels. I'd tell you the stores and the parcels but as Midwinter is around the corner I'm not about to chance ruining that for you if something was for you. Then she went to the Rosewood eating house and had a meal alone before returning to the palace, alone, and went to her room alone, and did not leave again until dawn, which saw her going to your study."

Roald narrowed his eyes on his father, his temper rising as his father read. The nerve he had. "You're having a spy tail my squire?" He demanded. He saw his father flinch though Roald hadn't so much as yelled.

"She has to be cleared, Roald. Before Midsummer she wasn't exactly one to put herself forward and suddenly now she's been in the right place at the right time twice. She's been honored by Tusaine who up until recently wanted a war with us. And she's been seen fraternizing with Sir Nikolas, in his rooms alone with him one evening and the other night she was to meet with him off of the palace grounds. It looks suspicious." Jonathon began to rub his temples. "Listen, I don't believe she's coordinating with Tusaine or anyone else. I do believe that others believe it and I need proof she's not. So George has set someone to watching her. And they record her every move so if another attack happens and someone points to her, I can account for her every minute."

"Someone has already accused her of being a spy, haven't they?" Roald knew his father didn't do preemptive spying to clear people. He did it to prove something. Someone, or several someones, believed his squire was behind the attacks. And what would she gain out of it. Well she would gain his trust, though no one expected him to make her his squire. And she gained wealth from Tusaine, though he personally knew it had never been her intention.

"That's not important. What's important is Gwen hasn't lied to you," Jonathon folded up the paper again and tucked it back into his pocket.

"I'm curious, did the spy mention what happened to Sir Nikolas that night or did you not have someone watching him too," Roald toyed with the rim of his goblet as he asked. He guessed that if Gwen was being watched, so were Edric and Sir Nikolas as well.

"Sir Nikolas left the palace when Gwen arrived at the statue. He came down the stairs, apparently caught sight of her, and ducked into the crowd. He spent the evening at a tavern and then went to an inn for the night." Jonathon had a grim look on his face.

"And we're certain he saw her and ran?" Roald asked wanting confirmation.

"The spy said there was no doubt about it. He was staring right at her for nearly twenty seconds before he turned up the collar of his coat and walked away."

"If diplomacy wasn't involved I'd bring him out onto the practice courts to teach him some manners," Roald growled. His father came and sat down by him, clearly convinced that the threat that Roald's anger would be turned on him was well past.

"It's his loss in the end, remember that," Jonathon sighed. "But I would warn Gwen if he starts admitting to sharing her bed. She may have to confront him and that could get ugly."

"Thank you for letting me know," Roald stood and set his goblet down. "I think I'll confront him first though. As my squire, I should be doing something to stand up for her."

"You stand up for her all of the time," Jonathon muttered when he probably thought Roald was out of his hearing. He wasn't. And he heard the quiet addition of, "some people are afraid to yell at the King. Not my family. Not my friends."

"I never yelled at you about Gwen," Roald called back over his shoulder. "I didn't even raise my voice. Your follower had better keep his or her distance. Gwen is smart. Eventually she'll start to suspect something and then I'm sending her to you."

Once outside the room, Roald made the decision to go visit Edric and Nikolas at their rooms. He wanted to set the matter straight once and for all before any rumors started. To his surprise, the door to Nikolas' room was open and he could see Edric standing just inside of the door.

"You stood her up!" Edric demanded. "She's a hero of Tusaine and you stood her up?"

"I panicked. I told her to wear something nice and when I saw her, she was wearing breeches! I don't care what I was told was acceptable here. In Tusaine we don't take an unproperly dressed woman to nice places." Nikolas snapped.

"Damn you, Nik! Did you even come up with a good excuse?" Edric snapped.

"I didn't give her one. I didn't want to have to reschedule," Nikolas growled.

"She's the Prince's squire! I told you when you were telling me about how you were taking her out to dinner that you needed to be careful. Diplomatically we are in a bad position! One word to her knight master about the slight against her for wearing breeches," Edric's tone told Roald just how stupid he believed that excuse to be, "and we could be facing that war Juris tried to start."

"There won't be a war over it," Roald said as mildly as possible from the door. "Not unless it happens again with a note that says 'Courtesy of Tusaine'." He saw the look on Edric's face as he turned to see who was speaking. The look of horror was far from hidden. "Naturally, I just wanted to stop by and make sure that any possible rumors of my squire in bed with you were squashed before they went past these rooms."

"Prince Roald," Nikolas stood and bowed low. "I know I disrespected Gwen by walking away, but I would never spread rumors of her."

"Should I hear them, I will be back and we will have less pleasant conversations." Roald nodded to both of them and left the doorway. It wasn't exactly diplomatic of him to threaten anything if gossip sprung up but at the same time, he wasn't just the Crowned Prince anymore, he was a knight master and he had certain duties to uphold.

But by morning Roald didn't have to worry about any possible rumors flying around about Gwen and the handsome foreign knight or Gwen ever finding out about why he disappeared on her. He was handed a note in the morning with his breakfast from Prince Edric stating that now that peace was established, he and Nikolas had to return home to get their own Midwinter preparations underway. Roald saw through most of the excuses to understand that Edric was removing Nikolas from Tortall before he made a bigger ass of himself and caused a true diplomatic issue. Roald sent his apologies that they had to leave so soon and offered up a company of the Own to escort them back to the border.

The response came later that afternoon when Roald was meeting with a few of his friends with Gwen serving them. Yes, a company would be needed. With a smile he asked Gwen to carry a message first to Lord Raoul asking for a company and then a full response, when Raoul agreed, to Edric regarding when they should be ready. She left at a trot to get it done.

"Was that a good idea?" Faleron asked. "If she really is mad about…"

"They won't want to upset her further by discussing it," Roald informed him. The remarks spawned some questions and Roald had been long finished telling the story when she came back in an obviously much darker mood.

"What's wrong, Sunshine?" Neal asked before Roald and Faleron could stop him.

"Breeches? He walked right by me without a word and let me stand there and wait for an hour because I was wearing breeches?" She demanded. Roald hadn't expected Edric or Nikolas to tell her the truth so he was surprised she knew. Beyond that, he was surprised that she was only angry and not emotional. He thought that perhaps Gwen had actually liked Nikolas and had been playing it down to pretend she wasn't hurt.

"You're kidding," Faleron looked between Roald and Gwen. Roald had not shared that particular detail because he didn't want it noted that he had spied on a conversation. "You're not kidding," he frowned and then looked to Gwen. "Well, he's an idiot and you're better off."

"But breeches?" She asked looking down at the ones she was wearing. "Ugh! I wish I was able to send the ladies in your mother's letters to him. Then he'd appreciate a woman who can wear breeches."

"That's a torture no man should suffer," Faleron argued.

"And he'd probably enjoy it," Roald added. "He's leaving, and you can wish him all of the horrors in the world but I think he's going to be punished enough. Edric gave him a verbal lashing for slighting the heroine of Tusaine."

Roald watched her puff out the rest of the air in her lungs several times over before she went over to the drink cart to start refilling cups. Despite her attempt to return to normal duties, Roald swore he heard her mutter the word "breeches" several times over the course of the evening.

By the time they went to see Edric and Nikolas off the next morning with First Company of the King's Own, Gwen had composed herself enough and was giving her best social smile to both Edric and to Nikolas as she wished them a pleasant journey. Nikolas blushed when she addressed him and Roald was fairly certain that he had been aware that Edric had given way to Gwen's asking of questions the night before. If he was properly ashamed to face her after doing such an idiotic thing, then it was more than most men in Tortall could learn.


	17. Chapter 17

Besides running herself ragged between making sure parties and feasts were running on time and spending time on serving at parties after feasts, Gwen had to admit that Midwinter was fairly mild. There were no assassination attempts though everyone was on high alert. There wasn't even a feud that got out of control and had to have guards brought in as there was sometimes in the quieter years. And on the morning after Longnight, Gwen had been surprised to find a number of parcels delivered by the servants along with the hot water that usually found its way into her rooms in the morning. She had been happy to see that her parents had sent a quiver of a golden orange colored leather that almost matched her bow to the shade and had the Merrywood crest pressed into the side. Roald had given her a stack of very old books that told about the history of the more gentle and hidden Immortals. She hadn't expected to see anything more but she also received a beautifully designed belt purse in a dark green dyed leather with silver fastenings that she loved so much she forgave Sir Faleron for his comment in the note he sent with it. He had written that she needed a bigger, better belt purse to hold all of her wealth and love notes now. Sir Neal had given her a pocket sized book on the types of trees and plants that were edible in Tortall and the surrounding countries.

The largest of the gifts was three boxes the size of the chest at the foot of her bed. Reading the note first she discovered it was from Tusaine as an addition to the original gift. It served her right for thinking it was done with and for managing to find storage for everything she had been given before. She let out a small, frustrated puff of air as she opened the first box to find it filled with more small boxes. She hung her head for a moment and then began opening each individual box. This was how Roald found her later, sitting on the floor surrounded by small empty crates and lots of wood shavings.

"What's all of this?" Roald asked with a nod to the wreckage.

"Tusaine," Gwen growled.

"You're kidding?" He came in and sat down. Reaching into one of the larger boxes he pulled out his own stack of small boxes to unpack. "Why send more? Did they say?"

"The note from Prince Edric said that the general consensus was he had not given enough because he had been too constrained for time. So he had to send more," she rolled her eyes.

"Golden plates, I see, and jeweled goblets," Roald nodded to the piles of things she had open already.

"Things I will never use," she rolled her eyes. "And then there's that box." She nodded to one of the large boxes that was open. "Bars of precious metals, several more boxes of coins."

"More jewelry in this box," Roald showed her a pair of sapphire earbobs and a gold and ruby bracelet he had uncovered.

"Do you think you can help me invest the money?" Gwen asked looking up at her knight master. She had been thinking about it for a while. Investing it would do more good than letting it sit in the Goldsmith Guild vault. Looking up at Roald now she saw him staring at her hard and then her gave her a regretful smile. "Am I not allowed to do that? I mean I know I can't sell off the jewels or the goblets or plates because diplomatically I'm obligated to keep them. But the coins?"

"Oh you can invest, certainly, and I'm honored that you asked me," Roald assured her. "But I'm just not the person to help you out there. Sir Neal would be best to talk to. He's got a hand in several places that are doing well. Lady Kel said her investments are doing well, but her advisor was Lord Raoul in those matters. And if you're really in a bind and don't want to speak to either of them, Sir Faleron has a few investments that do well."

Gwen smiled. The list of friends that did financially well were the same as those she was allowed to trust with pretty much any information. She knew that Roald loved all of his friends, but he also knew which ones were the most dependable. While Sir Seaver and Sir Esmond were dependable and knowledgeable in their own areas, neither wished to be anything more than knights working for the Crown so they didn't need to be entrusted with more than their tasks. Sir Merric, while a decent sort, had a temper and an inability to keep his foot from his mouth when it got the better of him, which meant he said things he would regret to people he would regret speaking to later. Sir Owen was a terrible liar and couldn't talk around a truth to save his life. It was a true virtue that Roald respected, and also he respected that Owen simply loved being a bandit hunter and let him do just that. Sir Cleon, while he had matured with age and with a wife and children, was still a prankster and Roald was reluctant to allow him any station that would allow him power over more people. He was the type of person to pull a chair out from under a friend, watch them crack their head, laugh, and apologize for them being a poor sport later when reprimanded. He was a decent lord to his people overall but such things did happen from time to time.

"What did you do with the mountain of cloth that used to occupy the foot of your bed?" Roald asked suddenly. "I recall it being here not that long ago."

"I sent it out to Lalasa's dress shop to be made into gowns for me."

"Isn't that a little lady-like?" Roald teased.

"I thought, well," she blushed realizing she was contradictory a bit. "All of my gowns are hand-me-downs from my sister, Aurelia. We're similar in size. But I figured it would be nice to have a few of my own and with all of that cloth just sitting here…"

"That was a good idea. And even Kel and Alanna have gowns. And neither of them like fuss when it comes to being ladies. They do, however, like to dress up, get made up, and show off every now and then. Alanna used to tell us that she was a woman and sometimes it was nice to feel pretty. Kel told my wife that she likes to wear her gowns and face paint to remind people she is indeed a woman and a damn good looking one at that."

"Lady Kel did not say that," Gwen stared at Roald over the box in her hands.

"Well, not the last part. Captain Dom said the last part," Roald laughed. "Now what do you propose we do with all of this… stuff."

"I'll have to send the plates and goblets up to Merrywood. The rest I'll have to take to the Goldsmith Guild Vault the next time I get into Corus." She started to put things back into their large boxes.

"Well I know one thing you still need for Midwinter," Roald stood and brushed off his breeches.

"No, you already got me something and it was wonderful and I thank you. Nothing else," Gwen put her hands on her hips and glared up at him trying to look as stern as possible while still sitting on the floor.

"You need a bigger closet," Roald informed her like she had said nothing.

"Unless you annex the room next to mine, it's not going to grow. And I doubt Squire Mira will be all that thrilled you took her room." Gwen rolled her eyes. Clearly Roald was teasing her.

"I'm sure she would be if that was what I had planned." Roald offered his hand down to her and lifted her off of the floor with one very strong pull. Had she been less braced for the power behind it, she would have likely flown forward and fallen on her face. "But this is less of a gift and more of a convenience for me rather that you. I'll give you five minutes to dress properly and then you need to join me in the hall." Before she could argue he strode out into the hall and the door closed behind him with an audible thud.

Gwen thought hard about what Roald meant. He could be cryptic when he wanted to be. A larger closet for Midwinter and it being more convenient for him than a gift for her. Why would it be better for him if she had a bigger closet? While she thought she pulled on her uniform and twisted her hair back into its standard knot.

When she was ready she stepped out into the hall and met Roald. He signaled for her to follow and she nearly had to trot to keep up with him as he sped through hall after hall. When they slowed she knew they were only one hallway away from the Royal Wing and she was less than a minute's walk to Roald's study and just a few hundred feet more to his bedroom. She also noticed several other names on doors that they walked past engraved on gold plaques: Sir Nealan and Lady Yukimi of Queenscove, Sir Faleron of King's Reach, Lady Haname noh Ajikuro, Duke Baird and Duchess Wilina of Queenscove… other names she didn't recognize. Then they stopped at a plaque she did know the name on 'Lady Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood'.

"Like I said before, this isn't exactly a gift." Roald said withdrawing a key from his pocket. "These rooms belong to the people who interact with the Crown the most, who should be within a short distance at all times. You currently walk nearly seven minutes to get to this hallway to get from your rooms. Five if you walk really fast. And that's too far as far as I'm concerned."

"But…"

"Most knights who need their squires nearby have adjoining rooms, but I don't have any decent rooms that adjoin to mine and I have children that would never allow you to sleep. This is the best I could do to accommodate both you and me in this. So go, inspect your new domain. I'll be expecting you moved and ready to serve tonight. I'll need nothing before then." Roald closed her hand over the key and then left her standing there.

It was some time before she got the courage to open the door. A suite of rooms the closest to the royal wing was a gift that few received. The receivers were usually extremely important people. But she did reason with herself that Roald was only giving her this because he wanted his squire closer and she would be vacating this room in three years' time when she passed the Ordeal. Others were usually given their rooms for life.

She put the key in the lock and turned it, feeling the tumbler fall into place and with an audible click. When she pushed open the door she bit her lip to keep her mouth from falling open. The first thing she saw was a sitting room. She had a sitting room! Complete two couches and several arm chairs that sat in a semicircle near the fireplace. Also in the room was a bookshelf that went nearly to the ceiling that would certainly hold all of her books now. She recognized the nooks the corners of the room that marked places for servants to set up drink stations and keep extra supplies. Walking in and closing the door behind her, Gwen marked two doors to her right and went to investigate. The door closest to her was a small dining room with a table and chairs that could easily seat a family of eight and several cupboards and counters for servants to use again. The second door was back by the outside of the building and opened to an study with yet another bookshelf, a large desk, and a several extra chairs. Just beyond the bookshelf was another door that she discovered led to what would be her bedroom.

The bedroom was larger than both her room in the pages wing, her room in the squires wing, and the study just outside of the room. The bed was not the single sized bed that she was used to having, but a large four poster bed with a canopy. There was a vanity pushed up against one wall and a weapon and armor racks that sat against the other. A fireplace warmed the room just far enough from the bed that she would be comfortable. She saw two more doors in this room and knew one had to lead to a privy, and found she was correct. There was a privy, a tub, and a water basin with mirror tucked into one room. The other door she guessed was her dressing room which would be the closet Roald had teased about. The closet was indeed much bigger than the one she had and she assumed it was because the owners of these types of rooms usually had a Lord and a Lady sharing the closet. One side of the closet had places that would be best suited to holding gowns as well as a bureau of drawers that were perfectly suited to holding jewelry. The other side of the closet held the clothing press, the clothing stand, and shelves more suited to a man's clothing. At the very back was a full length mirror with a place to stand so she could dress completely in the dressing room before seeing anyone that might be in the bedroom. That seemed unlikely to happen to her but she wasn't the typical recipient of these rooms.

For the most part, the suite was furnished but it was undecorated and her items would only go so far to cover that. As she walked back to her old room to pack, she wondered if she would be able to send a letter to her parents asking for the wall hangings she had had in her bedroom at home. They would liven the place up a little and make her feel more at home rather than out of place in a suite of rooms that she didn't belong in. It seemed like a good plan to put into place after she had moved and after the party if she wasn't too exhausted. And she didn't think she'd be too exhausted as several servants were already at her door waiting to help her relocate.

**A/N: I appreciate all of the reviews, views, favorites, and follows! You guys are awesome. Please continue to review as it makes me far more excited to get back to writing!**


	18. Chapter 18

The next few months were a blur of training, training, and training. Roald had taken advantage of having the Own still in Corus and had Lord Raoul abduct her for drills each morning when she had normally been helping him do paperwork that no longer apparently needed to be done now that Midwinter was well passed. It had taken a few days for her to establish that she wasn't some lady interested in how the Own worked, but a fully trained squire that could give a punch as well as take one. Raoul had stopped her the first day and had told her that if anyone gave her trouble, he'd overlook her proving herself. And she'd have to prove herself. She was a fairly petite person. She had had to break drill several times to knock a man on his behind and then inform them to do the drill properly. She wouldn't break. That action had sparked several men to put their all into the drills and had left her arms feeling like overcooked noodles at the end of the day but she didn't complain. Drills started each morning with a run. In winter it was laps around the indoor practice court to the distance of three miles. Then they did unarmed drills and polearm drills. Once every few days they would do sword drills. By the time Second Company, her drill company, was called out she was far stronger than she had been and she had added a routine to her morning that included a run to increase her endurance and speed.

With Second Company gone in March, Roald took on her instruction in sword play, telling her that she needed to do just as well with all weapons as she did with her bow. The Own had worked on her polearms, her unarmed, and a little with sword drills but now Roald pressed her with free-for-all duels where the only end was one where Roald called a stop. It led duels that could extend from half a bell to two full bells. By the time they finished these duels, they were usually both drenched in sweat and exhausted. The days they went the longest, Roald usually gave her the rest of the morning off and most of the afternoon in order to let her recuperate. She expected he wanted time to recuperate as well but didn't want to admit that these long duels were also for him to get him training in too.

In April, Lady Knight Kel showed Gwen several exercises that built up arm muscles and helped her change her routine to maximize her potential each day without exhausting her before Roald's duels. In April, as well, Roald started bringing in other opponents for her to spar against. She learned each person's different fighting style and how to spot their weaknesses quickly.

In May, with Lord Raoul still in the palace, Roald enlisted him to teach her to joust properly. With her slight build, she was not as solid as she wanted to be in the saddle but she stopped flying after the third week and managed to find a way to center her weight so that Raoul couldn't pop her out of the saddle with a small flick of his lance. By the end of May, Raoul left with Third Company and Gwen begged Roald to not torture her again. She likely wouldn't enter any jousts in tournaments but she would likely enter the archer competitions should a tournament ever come around.

During all of this time, her formal instruction took place three nights a week during Roald's late evening study session where his friends often threw in their oars as he lectured about math, laws, history, tactics, and anything else he could think a squire needed to know. She maintained a few hours a day to herself which allowed her to often go out and work on her archery, her riding, or reading.

In June, they were on high alert as the Midsummer ball came back into play. Despite the best efforts of the Spymasters, the person or people that had hired the assassin had not been identified. Had Gwen not interceded last June, the assassin might have succeeded. Roald had tried to reason with Gwen telling her to take the night off and attend as a lady. Now at seventeen she was the same age as most of the unmarried ladies that attended and he pointed out that she had several ball gowns and many jewels that were sitting unused in her closet. She argued with him stating she needed to be watching him all night in case the need for protection came into play again. The argument ended without a question when not only Sir Faleron and Sir Neal threw in their opinions but King Jonathon caught wind of the argument and left Gwen standing as the victor by Royal Order.

So Gwen spent the afternoon before the ball started as Roald did, being fitted with armor under her uniform and with protection charms that would detect poison and one special charm that Duke Baird himself handed to each of them that would slow their hearts in the case of major blood loss. The idea was it would slow their bleeding long enough for a healer to reach them and hopefully preserve their lives. Gwen was also outfitted with several knives and drilled on unsheathing them and using them quickly and effectively.

All of the preparation left Gwen feeling far less than protected as she was handed a tray that evening and told her post would be near the royalty. She resisted the urge to glance at the balcony that had housed the assassin the year before. She knew it was unlikely they would try the same thing again and that guards were posted at the stairwell that led to that balcony, and all balconies this year for that matter. She didn't relax as the night went on either. She didn't know how the royalty could be so calm and seemed to forget that there was a chance they were targets tonight. She dreaded each time she had to go refill her tray and she was always cautious about looking for poison. The charm on her wrist wasn't like other poison charms that would light up if it was near a poison and alert others she had found something and thus the poisoner if they were nearby. Instead it would turn cold. So far that hadn't happened and she was at least comfortable serving the royal family and those who stood near enough to them to take from her tray.

On her seventh changing of her tray three hours into the ball, her already high alert senses were set off as she felt someone come up behind her at the drink table. The man was plain, dressed like one of the country Lords that often came out to these balls looking for young ladies that could marry into the lesser fiefs. He had on a nice but simple shirt, tunic, and breeches in neutral shades that would guarantee no one looked at him for long or remembered much about him. His face was plain, unmarked by scars or birthmarks that would be identifiable.

"You work so hard at serving," he told her as she moved her empty cups to the table. "What, you don't want to talk?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord, but I need to return to my post in short order," there was something wrong. Gwen could feel it and she wanted to get back to Roald's side immediately but she couldn't do that without loading up her tray so she didn't spark the interest of anyone watching her. And it would be likely this man was watching her.

"Here, let me help you then," he put cups onto her tray and she felt the charm start to turn cold immediately. There was no way for her to alert someone without this man knowing she knew what he was doing. She gave him a smile and thanked him before turning to walk away. To her luck, in her absence, Sir Faleron had closed in on Roald and was talking while the lady he had escorted that evening was dancing with a man who had asked to steal her for a few moments. As she approached and Roald reached for a cup she gave the tiniest shake of her head.

"Poison," she mouthed.

"Did you see who?" Faleron asked her, his voice as quiet as possible while still making it look like he was only talking to Roald.

"The plain looking man that approached me at the table. Neutral colored clothes, mid-twenties, brown hair, brown eyes…" she stopped when Faleron gave a slight motion of his hand indicating he could see exactly who she was talking about.

"Be ready," he whispered before turning back to Roald completely. A moment later he turned back around while still talking and ran right into her bringing her down in a crash and with the cups from her tray going everywhere. She surged to her feet and started apologizing loudly. Servants were already rushing forward to clean up the spill.

"Excuse me, I need a moment with my squire," Roald gave Gwen the imperial nod that she was to follow him without question. She went with him back into one of the rooms that was behind the dais that thrones the royalty could rest on, were placed. It looked like she was about to be in trouble for causing a scene. After a few moments Faleron joined them.

"That man tried to leave the ball, guards grabbed him. Tell me everything," Faleron asked while trying to wipe the droplets of liquid off of his clothes. Gwen didn't want to point out the few spots of liquid on his clothes were hardly noticeable while her tunic and breeches were obviously wet with the poisoned tea and juice. She told him of his approach at the table and everything he had said.

"I didn't see him poison the cups and it could have been coincidence, but I don't believe that to be true." Gwen tugged at the charm on her wrist. It was still cold because she was coated in the poison.

"Well let's hope we can get some information out of this one," Roald noticed her tugging at the charm and stopped her. "Go take those off, find the baths, and scrub. I want those clothes burned. If you feel even the slightest bit ill, I want you to go to the infirmary."

"But the ball," Gwen didn't want to leave Roald there without her.

"I'm sorry but you are coated in a poison that I can't imagine leaving you standing in for another hour or so without worrying about your health." Roald looked her over. "And the armor and sheaths are showing now that your clothes are wet in places."

"But," she tried to argue again. She had won arguments before with Roald, and she was afraid that now it was clear the poison hadn't worked, the assassins would try something more dramatic.

"Just do as I say for once without arguing. It's for your own health." Roald looked her over. "Fal, you go too. It's on you too and I need you both."

"Come on Gwen, let's go before he gets really stern with both of us. There's a back door to these rooms." Faleron steered her out of the room while Roald went back out to the ball.

"But what about…" Gwen started, but Faleron shushed her.

"The guards are on alert now that something has happened. Roald won't be all that exposed anymore. And I suspect the ball will end sooner rather than later." Faleron covered what she had meant to say but she had one more thing she wanted to question.

"And what about your lady you left behind? Won't she be looking for you?"

"She'll be fine. There were enough admirers asking for her all night that she won't be lonely."

"Any chance of her becoming the next Countess of King's Reach?" Gwen found herself asking.

"None at all. Speaking of Countesses," Faleron glanced down at her. "I heard your investments are doing very well and you're now richer than most Countesses in your own right."

"I received lots of help." And Gwen had. She had taken Roald's advice of who to talk to and had talked to them all. All of them had had different suggestions on where to invest, so she invested in all of the ones that were suggested. She now received monthly statements from the Goldsmith Guild about the status of her wealth. She had even written letters to allow her parents access to her money to allow for repairs at Merrywood. Only the marks on her statements that said money was also leaving the accounts and a few letters from her brother telling her of the changes happening at Merrywood as far as fixing up houses in the village and the repairs to the castle told her they had listened. She knew her parents were proud people who didn't want to take from her but these were long needed repairs that would better the lives of the people at Merrywood.

"What are you going to do with so much money to your name?" Faleron asked, breaking into her thoughts.

"Right now it's going where my parents see fit in our fiefdom."

"Is Merrywood in such financial trouble that they need your income?" Faleron's tone was only curious, not the probing she normally found from other nobles questioning monetary status of her family fief. There were always vultures around looking to pick off fiefs that could be lent money and then taken over when that debt couldn't be paid back.

"Not necessarily. We don't produce an abundance of extra income, so there are projects that sit and wait for more money to magically appear. So there are homes in the village that need new roofs, and walls that need fixing, and roads that need to be repaired, equipment that needs to be replaced. Things that the richer, larger fiefs don't even blink an eye at."

"If you heard my mother go over expense reports, you'd know that was wrong. She will spend money on her girls easily but when it comes down to replacing equipment she needs it inspected and it needs to be in really bad condition for her to break and spare some coins." Faleron shook his head. "I'm glad your wealth is going to a good use."

"My sister had the nerve to tell me to save it all for a dowry. She wrote and I quote here 'since you have decided to pursue this mad dream of knighthood and have ruined your body with scars and your reputation by choice of profession, you will need a hefty dowry in order for a man to even glance your direction.'" Gwen didn't add that her sister had gone on to request she donate the gowns and jewelry to her where they would find better use or that she mentioned Sir Faleron often in her letters to Gwen always asking questions since he was still unmarried and not betrothed.

"Men look your direction all of the time. You just don't notice them staring longingly at you," Faleron teased her.

"And then they see me wearing breeches and run far far away," Gwen teased back.

"Nah, they see a beautiful woman working herself to death and believe they might not be able to keep up," Faleron informed her as they rounded the corner to their hallway. "Make sure you get to the baths and scrub every single inch. I don't want to go down in history as the man who accidentally poisoned the Royal Squire."

"I feel fine," she rolled her eyes. "Don't go worrying about me." She saw him give her a smile before he disappeared into his own room. And she did feel perfectly fine but that didn't mean she wasn't going to burn the clothes and scrub hard enough to turn her skin red. The charm on her wrist was still cold. She intended to keep it on until it was no longer giving her frostbite. But sadly this meant she was also going to need yet another new uniform.


	19. Chapter 19

After the Midsummer attempted poisoning, Roald seemed to have the reoccurrence of the brilliant idea that Gwen needed to have experience on a border patrol. Since he couldn't leave the palace, he enlisted Sir Faleron to take her out on his patrol. Realizing that her arguments would fall on deaf ears, Gwen packed up what she needed and joined Faleron early one morning in the stables. She gathered up her mount, a blue roan gelding she had named Rue, and loaded him down with her saddlebags.

"Don't look so sad," Sir Faleron teased her. "You get to spend a month riding with me. Most ladies would kill you and take your place if they found out."

"Why aren't you amusing this early in the morning?" Gwen gave him a smile. "Perhaps you'd enjoy the company of one of those ladies instead. I happen to have been approached by several the other day regarding your martial prospects. I could go find them."

"Funny." Faleron rolled his eyes. "Really though it's only a month."

"I know, but I'd prefer to keep an eye on his Highness all the same."

"Neal is watching him," Faleron assured her as they mounted up. "Which means, by the time we return in a month, he won't want either of us to leave for a while."

"Oh, is that why you agreed so quickly?"

"Nah, I like getting out every now and then. It's nice to get away from the complexities of palace life and get to do something real for once." Faleron tossed her a small bag. When she opened it she found several rolls stuffed with fruit and a few of the apple cakes she loved. "Breakfast," Faleron explained.

"I don't usually eat this much for breakfast," Gwen rolled her eyes at him.

"You could. You run around enough to deserve more food." Gwen ignored his comment and started in on the rolls and cakes. By the time she was completely full, they were well into the Royal Forest.

"Gwen," Faleron started. "You were kidding about those ladies earlier, weren't you?"

"The ones that approached me about your martial prospects? Sadly, no."

"Why are they asking you? Of all people?" He twisted in his saddle to look at her.

"Probably because I'm the woman that spends the most time basking in your glorious presence. They thing I have all of the inside secrets." And she had been approached many times by ladies wanting to know his favorite colors, his favorite scents, his favorite foods, what sort of jokes he found funny, what sort of laws held his interest. There were the silliest questions about if he preferred looking at women's behinds or their bosoms, and questions about if he had ever mentioned what hair color or eye color he preferred. Her own sister had fallen into that mode of thinking in recent letters.

"My glorious presence, eh?" Faleron raised an eyebrow at her. "You wouldn't be one of those ladies you despise so much, would you?"

"You flatter yourself." She snorted. "Do you know how often I hear how lucky I am to spend so much time with you and have such a good excuse to see you every day while also being told that I'm a whore and will never have a chance with a decent man like you as more than a bed warmer?"

"I want their names," Faleron growled. "So I can strike them off whatever list my mother sends next."

"How often does your mother send lists and descriptions?" Gwen was genuinely curious. There were only so many ladies of a marriageable age in Tortall. In the past year she was sure he'd seen at least thirty long descriptions as well as accompanied nearly as many other ladies to different events.

"With every letter she sends me," Faleron groaned. "But when she really believes in one, like she does right now, she withholds the name from me and tells me all of their qualities that she believes are good and then she she'll send them down to me and we'll meet for a few outings before I tell them I'm not interested."

"Are you so disinterested in women? Perhaps you prefer men?" Gwen was curious. She had met the women Sir Faleron had escorted to each event that she served at. Not all of them were completely horrid. Some of them just had to unlearn a few things that the Convent had drilled into their heads about men.

"No! Oh Goddess, no… don't go starting that rumor. My mother will try harder than ever." Faleron started to laugh. "You ask because I turn down every woman that comes my way even though most of them are very beautiful. Some even have a few decent qualities. But, I don't know, I'm the first man in my line to be allowed to make a love match. I can court any woman and marry because I enjoy the woman's company. It's a big deal. More so because many men of such wealth and status have their betrothals lined up before they are shipped off to the palace to train as pages. I'm lucky to be able to choose, and I don't want to squander my chance on a woman that is only mildly interesting to me."

"So many women will be crushed to hear you say so. Now tell me about this woman your mother is pressing on you. I'll see if she matches the description of anyone I know."

"Unlikely, as she usually keeps them at King's Reach long enough to assess them completely before sending them to the palace, but alright." Faleron began describing the lady to Gwen and she thought hard, eliminating ones she had met personally. After a little while she and Faleron both began joking about qualities that his mother would not find attractive in a young woman.

The conversation carried them through most of the day and by the time they reached the wayhouse for the night, they had both laughed themselves exhausted. Gwen disappeared into her room once she had eaten and her things were cared for. She decided she might need to apologize to Roald for calling this idea silly. She liked riding with Faleron and the rest of the month wasn't looking so bad.

It took them one more full day to reach the outpost on the Tusaine border. Faleron had explained he was always on the Tusaine border when he went on patrols. It meant he was away less time and more available to return should Roald need him. It was likely the reason she had not been sent with Lady Kel up to the Scanran border which happened to be a three month patrol minimum. And the border with Tusaine was the quietest so it was the best place to learn the ropes.

The first order of business in the morning was for Faleron to show Gwen the entire outpost and the map of the area. She needed to memorize that map before he could take her out too far in case something did happen and she needed to reach reinforcements or safety. The Faleron laid out how often they would ride out on patrols, what they were looking for, the military hand signs she was required to know, and the names of the people at the outpost. Once that was all done, it was already dinner time. After dinner, Faleron cornered her again at set her to work on supply sheets for the outpost as part of her formal education.

And so they began a routine. In the morning, Gwen drug herself out of bed just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. She went through her exercise routine including a jog around the outpost. After her first two mornings exercising alone, Faleron joined her. They then cleaned up, ate breakfast, and then mounted up. The patrol was supposed to look for three things: signs of vicious immortals, signs of law breaking activity, and signs of unrest from the Tusaine people.

In the second week, Gwen picked up the signs for spidren in the area. They spent the week hunting them and eventually capturing and executing two of the large monsters. In their third week at the outpost, a trading caravan going to Tusaine from Port Caynn stopped in to rest and refresh. By the fourth week, Gwen was getting ready to head back to the palace, making sure her belongings were set so she could do her best to make sure Faleron was ready to leave by securing his belongings when the time came.

The morning the day before they left, Faleron approached her and asked her to lead the patrol without him. She knew everything she needed to know at this point and the ten nine other men on the patrol from the army would take be there to advise her. It was a test she knew she was supposed to be undergoing. Had she really been paying attention the past four weeks at the outpost or had she just been following? She knew that Faleron was aware she had been learning but it was probably more for the sake of the men at the outpost or to prove she had benefitted from this outing either to herself or to Roald. So she decided to conduct the patrol as if they were in a serious threat situation though nothing had been reported in the area after those spidren had been dealt with. She informed her men of what she wanted and they all maintained silence, only using hand signs to communicate as they rode out.

They reached the halfway point of their circle by noon and they stopped for a moment by a creek to refill flasks and to snack on travel bread and dried meat that they all carried. In these few moments of peace, Gwen dropped the charade of seriousness and laughed and joked with the rest of them. As they mounted up to go again, Gwen heard the twang of a bow and the ominous sound of an arrow embedding in flesh. Looking around she saw the corporal of the squad she rode with sitting atop his mount going steadily pale with the shaft of an arrow sticking out of his neck. After a silent moment he slumped sideways and fell to the ground off of his mount. Gwen looked up at the men and then out to where the shot had been fired from. Bandits rode at them hard on starved horses. She looked back to see the men still in shock. They stood at nine warriors now with horses. A rough count of the bandits told her they had nearly double their numbers. They were too far from the outpost for a horn to be heard if they called for help. They were on their own and they needed to lessen the odds and quickly.

"Bows out!" Gwen found her voice. Her own bow was in her hand. She strung it and threw herself into Rue's saddle. Her first arrow found the shoulder of one man. Her second arrow buried itself in an exposed throat. Around her other arrows started to fly and more men fell as they found their marks amongst exposed skin or mounts. "Prepare to fight! Take them alive if you can!" Her voice carried. She set her bow in its holder and took hold of the first weapon she could grab, her sword. Then the enemy was upon them.

Gwen didn't look too much at faces as she parried, blocked, and slashed opponents. She knew if she did, she would hesitate. She cut one man down and knocked another sideways off of his mount into the confusion. There was no time to think beyond a silent 'thank you' to Roald for his duels that had often left her feel like a fully overcooked noodle. Now she was prepared to keep fighting. When she was no longer face with opponents she went to the aid of those of her people still standing. Some were without mounts, others besieged by multiple people. She charged down on one man standing over a fallen soldier preparing to deliver the killing blow. She cut his tricep as she rode by forcing him to drop the weapon. She turned and dismounted to face her opponent in one swift move, keeping her sword aloft. The man growled an insult, switched his weapon to his other hand, and charged. She stepped to the side, almost slipping in the bloody grass. His blade just missed her face as he spun back and hers a hair too slow at blocking it. She gained her footing and feigned a blow aimed at his collarbone. When it was blocked she lashed out with one leg, kicking just above the knee. The man's foot skid. While he tried to regain balance, Gwen cut the bicep of his other arm. He let out a yowl of pain and fell the rest of the way to the ground. Gwen took a moment to club him in the head with the hilt of her sword to knock him out and then looked up. Most of the bandits were dead. Those still alive were starting to realize they had lost.

It was a grim reality what they faced. If they ran, Gwen would shoot at them and likely hit them. If they surrendered, the King's Mercy didn't stretch all of that far to those who killed. At best they'd receive work in the mines where they would likely die in a couple of years. If they stayed and fought, they had slim odds of survival. So they fought. The men they faced dispatched them quickly. With the last of the bandits down, Gwen was reluctant to send any men to the outpost for aid in case more waited for them to relax. She also didn't want anyone being picked off for leaving the group. So Gwen issued orders for each man to be checked. Those of the enemy still alive needed to be bound and stripped of weapons. Those of their own that were alive needed to have injuries assessed and given battlefield first aid. She herself began rounding up horses. When the counts came back, they weren't good. She was down three men, definitely dead, and four horses. No man on her squad was uninjured. The most concerning was a man that appeared to have the artery cut in his left leg. His friends were trying hard to cut off the flow of blood to keep him alive. Of the twenty three men from the enemy, two were still alive. She had to make another decision and she waved the men that stood alive and less injured to her.

"Your friend needs a healer as soon as we can get one and we need help from the outpost. I want a vote on if we should send a man to get help or if we should stay together." She waited and then the answers came in. One man should escort the very injured man to the outpost and get aid. The others would stay and work on sorting out the mess. Gwen found the second most injured man and sent him as their messenger.

By the time help arrived, it was midafternoon. She was sweating from dragging bodies into a pile and their captives had woken and needed to be watched full time so she had two men on that which left her with two men. Of both of those men she set as sentries, not trusting that they were really done. That left her working on the bodies alone but she had time. Now she looked at faces, saw people where most would see men that deserved death. Tears stung at her eyes at the wasted life but she pushed them back and moved on to the next man. She was unaware of the arrival of help until very familiar hands tugged hers away from the arms of yet another dead man. She turned to look up at Sir Faleron and felt her lips tremble slightly. Then his arms were around her and he was hugging her tight.

"Thank Mithros you're alive," he whispered into her ear. "Are you hurt?" He pushed her back and looked her over. She was covered in drying blood mixed with dirt turned mud by her sweat. She could even see it grime left behind on Faleron's clean white shirt.

"It's not my blood," she told him, "well, most of it anyway." She did have several cuts that she had bound with spare bandages she always carried in her saddle bags, but nothing serious. The other men with injuries had seen to their wounds with their own supplies. Looking around she noticed that Faleron had certainly not come alone but was part of a relief of nearly twenty more men including the Captain of the Outpost. He was a grizzled looking older veteran with one eye that was always in a squint and short graying hair. He paced in front of his men that had survived the fight and demanded a report.

"They shot Avery first," came the first response. "We was finishing up eating some midday and getting ready to round back to the post when he was hit right in the throat. There was no saving him."

"And then what," the sharp response came.

"Squire Gwen called for bows and we followed her orders to shoot. She offed two of them before we could get off our own shots. Then when they got close she gave the order to try and take them alive if we could."

"Roup was stabbed clean through the belly."

"Burron took a nasty slash to the neck." They reported the deaths Gwen hadn't seen happen. She had been too involved in her fights to keep an eye on the overall battle. It was an oversight she didn't want to forget again.

"So we have twenty one dead enemy, two prisoners, three dead men, and the whole lot of you need healers." Gwen cringed at the tone in the Captain's voice as he turned to face Faleron who stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. "Tell His Highness his squire did exceptional work today in command." It was the only praise she'd get from the man but it was enough to validate she hadn't screwed up completely.

Faleron forced her to sit and she waited with the others while the relief finished her work of stacking up enemy bodies after searching them, and creating a pyre. The bodies were burned and the three men that had died were loaded up on stretchers to be brought back to the outpost to be properly honored. Their captives, including the man she had last faced, were loaded onto horses and they began the slow ride back to the outpost.

Their trip home was delayed several days due to Gwen not only having injuries but from proper reports being filled out about the action. Gwen sat in front of the Captain and Faleron and described to them not only her actions but the thoughts behind each of them. When that was done she was asked to remain long enough to be at the bedside of the man that she had saved from the killing blow. It had been the man so injured that he needed to return to the outpost quickly. He had lost a lot of blood but the healers had seen him in time. It was likely he'd make a full recovery due to their ability to apply some sort of first aid. Once he woke and she received his gratitude, she and Faleron made plans to head for home.

They left four mornings after the skirmish amongst much patting on the back and with full packs of food. If Faleron noticed her silence that had started after the fight, he said little about it. He only spoke to her when he had a question that needed answering. Beyond that they rode in silence to the wayhouse and then again the next morning to Corus.

Roald was waiting for them at the stable, his arms crossed and his eyes sweeping over the small cut still visible on Gwen's cheek and the weary look both of them held. Faleron had not sent word ahead to say they would be arriving late and Gwen knew it had been because he had been busy cleaning up her mess and then they were underway and a letter would have been silly since they would arrive before it did likely. It was possible he believed they were delayed due to being held up by immortals or by them stumbling upon something on the road home. Either way, he was worried and he began to pester Faleron with a thousand questions.

"Not now, Roald," Faleron's growl was low, possibly meant for Gwen not to hear. "Gwen, go settle Rue back in his stall properly and then clean up. I'll make sure supper finds its way up to your room before you go to bed." She nodded to him and turned to walk Rue away.

"What's going on?" She heard Roald ask quietly.

"There was a skirmish, Gwen was in charge. She lost men and she killed men. I think it's taking its toll." She heard Faleron reply honestly.

"You haven't talked her through it?" Roald demanded.

"I'm still working through the heart attack she gave me when two of her men came through the gate bloody, both in serious need of aid, and requesting help for the others. I thought she had sent her two most able men or that those were the only two that could get away to get help. I thought I had killed her by sending her out without a sergeant or myself." Faleron's voice carried back further than she was sure he intended it to go. Roald's reply was lost on her and whatever else was said was too quiet to hear. She turned her attention to Rue and pulling off his saddle.

Once Rue was groomed, his tack cleaned, and fresh food and water was left for him, Gwen gathered up her belongings and started towards the door. Roald and Faleron were still in his mount's stall whispering quietly but she couldn't bring herself to eavesdrop. Instead she went to follow orders. A bath sounded nice and her bed sounded nicer.

True to his word, Faleron was sitting at her dinner table with two trays of food when she returned from the baths. Roald sat with him.

"I have to ask, because Fal indicates you might be a bit traumatized by your first real battle. Gwen, are you still planning on becoming a knight?" Roald's eyes were deadlocked on hers. "You can say you don't want to do it anymore. It's a harsh reality to face when you've killed someone."

"I didn't kill someone," Gwen found her voice. "I killed several people with names and pasts and people that cared about them. But most of all I let three of my men die. I should have been paying better attention."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Faleron held up his hand. "I heard you recount the story, I've heard the men under your command recount the story. I even heard your captives recount their versions of it. Nothing you could have done would have saved those men. You were not in a position to take cover. You did not have reinforcements. I told the Captain that patrol route was too long and went too far from the outpost. Now he knows better. You killed to survive and protect your own. If it helps, they would've had you dead if you hesitated even a moment to consider their humanity." She stared at Faleron. Of course he probably knew exactly what was in her head. He had probably been playing similar questions over in his mind on if he could have taught her better or if he should have let her go alone. The truth was neither of them could go back and change their minds and find out if things would have gone better or worse.

"Again, I need an answer Gwen. Now that you know this could happen again, do you want to remain a squire?" Roald was staring at her.

"I'm not quitting, Highness. I just need to regroup." She put herself into her chair. "It's a very ill in the mind person who can kill and not feel sorrow."

"You're right," Roald leaned back in his chair. "It would be a sad day for me to find you felt no remorse."

"Now, on to brighter topics while we eat." Faleron commanded. "Tell us the news of the palace this last month."

When dinner was gone Roald gave her a brief hug and told her to take a day to gather herself together and report in two days to the practice courts in the morning before he left. Then Faleron stood and pulled her into an embrace.

"Don't you ever forget the enemy has their own story too. It will set you apart from those who forgot how to care," he stepped back and took her hands for a moment and then quirked a small smile. "And I still want the names of those ladies that think you belong as a bed-warmer."


	20. Chapter 20

September, October, and November seemed to be strangely dedicated to meetings. Roald had mentioned on multiple occasions to the coordinators, his parents, that it seemed silly because if something went bad there was a chance they'd be stuck. Jonathon explained that if something was going to go bad, it would go bad quickly as bad was usually planned. If indeed it did go bad, war would wait until spring. If indeed it did go bad, Tortall would have time to build up forts, recruit, train, make weapons and armor. Roald pointed out the other side was likely doing the same thing.

"Then we just hope we are better prepared." His mother had told him.

But nothing had gone bad and this Midwinter had left him not having to plan. He had done it once, to perfection, with Gwen's help at coordinating. The only time he would have to do something of the sort again would be if all of the regular planners were gone at war or mysteriously all became ill. He and Gwen both prayed neither thing would happen. Roald's father's reign had been marked by two wars close together and almost a third in the middle of that with Carthak. Before Jonathon had been Roald's namesake, his grandfather who's title had become "Peacemaker" and he took it seriously.

Jonathon had told Roald more than once he resembled his grandfather in how he tried to be fair. Where Roald differed was simply that he didn't believe peace was always the correct answer. Jonathon had lectured on where his father had gone wrong in the Tusaine War of 435H.E. He had ordered the men not to cross the River Drell at any cost which led to a mutiny staged by himself in order to bring back captured Tortallans. Had it not been his squire Alanna that had been captured, he was certain he wouldn't have led the revolt but it still would have happened. "A good commander is trained not to give orders that will not be obeyed. It is immoral to hand down punishment on something you knew would be ignored. Take for example your old training master Lord Wyldon of Cavall and your friend Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan and the Scanra 'trip' she took." Jonathon had lectured for hours on such things. And these were things Roald had been hearing his whole life.

His grandfather may had never been trained as a knight. He had never been a warrior and had never learned to lead warriors. His knowledge of battles came from lessons and books. When Jonathon described his father he mentioned a lot of parties and balls at Court as well as a love for reading. While Jonathon never spoke of his cousin Roger or his father's older brother who should have inherited the crown, Roald had discovered a little. The nameless man had been a knight, trained to be King, and had died in one of his father's wars leaving behind a son begotten by a woman who died in the childbed. Roger of Conte had spent the majority of his life aimless and knowing the Crown should have belonged to him but had been ripped away. Roald only felt pity for him though the man would have been Tortall's undoing.

"The year you were born was the first prosperous year after your father's cousin," Thayet had explained once. "Your father decided that was the point which he wouldn't look back on what his own blood had done. It's not that he is choosing to forget the man altogether, he's simply choosing not to make it a focus in his life."

It was a bitter tale. The closest thing to a brother he had had, a so called friend, a former lover, and a malcontent former noble had turned part of Tortall against him in his father's peace and his own grief in the deaths of both of his parents. It taught many lessons to Roald and his siblings growing up including that betrayal amongst royalty was often in the family or by those they trusted. But Roald seemed to be in a decent place amongst his siblings. His brothers were all very happy in their stations and when they saw the paperwork and planning he had to do as well as the schmoozing that too place, they wished him luck on his endeavor to become King.

At the beginning of December, Shinko announced a third pregnancy and Tortall celebrated the virility of Conte men and the fertility of their wives. It was another fear that dated back to his grandfather. His grandmother had only had one child and had been unable to have another. It had only encouraged the competition Roger had seen since there was only one person to really eliminate after both his aunt and uncle were gone. Roald didn't see that being a problem anymore as the Conte line was now spread out due to his number of siblings and their marriages and their future children. Even if all of his siblings only had one child, each child held a number in their distance to the throne. That made things more complicated for one of them to decide it belonged to them.

What was much more likely to take the throne from under him was treason. And with two attempts on his life confirmed to have been hired from a Tortallan fief, and one from outside of the country in the past year and a half, he wasn't all that sure he didn't need to worry more about it. The spymasters had told him it was unclear if the same person hired both men. Both men had died before being questioned too much. Neither had carried anything to identify them. Did that mean that unrest was stirring in one fief or multiple fiefs? And even if it was one fief, usually they included friends. He had seen that with Fief Dunlath. Multiple fiefs often got further as they could raise more support. He had his suspicions on who was behind the assassination attempts. He knew multiple people from his own year in page training that had made comments against him and his wife for their bloodlines not being pure Tortallan.

"Stop dwelling on it," Gwen had complained to him one evening when he had sat silent too long. His friends had turned to look at him unsure of what she had been talking about. "When you dwell, you overthink, and the truth stops being clear." She was fiddling with a letter as she mentioned it.

"So you carry around reminders of the truth to combat that?" He nodded to the letter in her hands. He knew she had received a letter from her parents saying that her sister was coming to be presented at Court over Midwinter. From what Roald had heard of Aurelia, she and Gwen did not get along all of that well. Aurelia was a true lady and Gwen was an embarrassment at best for shunning the true path of a woman.

"And what do you dwell on about your sister that makes you forget the truth?" Faleron had taken the letter to read through it. "That she wants you to give her all of your gowns and jewels and your access to me?" He laughed.

"It's silly," she had said. "But when we were little she pushed me out of the tree we had climbed and I fell and landed all wrong. My mother said it took the healers over a week to pull me back from death and we were all lectured on why we don't push." She shrugged. "Sometimes when I think about how much she seems to think I owe her for the embarrassment of having me as a sister, I think she might sometimes wish I had died."

"There is no way she can wish that," Roald informed her. "Especially because you are her link to Faleron. I hope you have been telling Faleron about," Roald took the letter from Faleron and flipped to the second page where Aurelia herself had added that Gwen should tell Sir Faleron all about how beautiful she was, about how the sisters at the Convent had praised her for her attention to detail, her dancing, and her conversation skills. Faleron rolled his eyes whenever it was brought up.

"I hope you take no offense when I don't fall in love," Faleron told Gwen honestly.

"I will certainly take offense if you _do_ fall in love," Gwen teased. But Roald wasn't sure if it was fully a tease. Since they had returned in August, he caught Gwen watching Faleron from time to time. His comments sometimes made her blush and she was always ready with a smile for him. It didn't mean that she had a crush on him, but it did tell him Faleron meant a lot to her. And he knew that Gwen respected Faleron greatly for his dislike of nearly everything the Convent instilled in the minds of young ladies about how to behave. Since her sister was very much one of those Convent ladies that believed she was perfect because she had done so well at the Convent, it was likely Gwen would lose respect for the man. Some part of him wanted to warn his best friend that Gwen might not be kidding but by the way Faleron sobered up at her comment and stared at her, it was likely he already knew. "I meant," Gwen added, "if you fall in love with my sister." She blushed deeply while trying to cover her tracks. "Not in love in general"

"Smooth save," Merric muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Seems like even a smart young woman like Gwen even thinks the sun shines out of your behind," Neal added to Faleron. Gwen had gone utterly pale as the rest of his friends began to tease her and Faleron. Roald watched, unable to think of a way to save her. If everyone was right in thinking she had a crush on Faleron, they were shaming her for her feelings. If they were wrong it was likely she believed she was losing Faleron's respect.

"Leave her alone," Faleron brushed off the comments. "I know what you meant," he assured Gwen when the others quieted down. "Don't worry about these idiots, they're just jealous."

"Why don't you just pick a pretty lady already and let the rest of the men of court have a chance?" Neal asked turning the attention completely away from Faleron.

"I'm waiting for the right one. Not all of us can have our Yuki just fall into our laps," Faleron teased. Roald knew it was the sure fire way to get Neal at least to back down and probably take up a torch in Faleron's corner. He was always willing to tell anyone who even might so much have thought to ask about his wife about how they were just perfect for one another and they had been so lucky to find each other so young.

"He wouldn't have met her had the first Yamani princess Roald was betrothed to not died in that earthquake. And certainly not if Kel hadn't introduced them," Seaver ventured. "There were circumstances."

"Well if Kel introduced the two of them, maybe I just need my best friend to step up," Faleron turned on Roald raising his eyebrow. "Any ladies you think I should meet?"

"No ladies that I can think of," Roald kept his tone even. When he thought about it, he wasn't thinking about a lady for Faleron if he really had to think of who was best with him. More like an ex-lady. A woman who had rejected being a lady. A woman who Faleron had been so torn up about being alive several months before that he had spent the next week trying to get his bearings. But neither Gwen nor Faleron would attribute his fear for her in the corner of love. It was simply that he was tasked to teach her and care for her in that time and he had almost failed. On top of that, he was fairly certain Faleron saw Gwen as a child and any suggestion that she was as old or a year older than any of the ladies he took to balls and feasts and parties would go unnoticed. It was difficult to break that barrier between child and adult when one was a squire, and a squire to Faleron's best friend.

And it wasn't like he could mention it anyway until she was knighted and probably for a while after she was knighted. The attention the court would pay to them as a couple would also be paid to Roald for allowing his friends to sleep with his squire. It was likely they would believe he had also slept with her and she was a whore for the circle of those closest to him. He could already see the rumors that would go around. And worse for Gwen, was there were men out there in the court that would attack her thinking it was okay since she was a whore anyway. They would be in the wrong even if Gwen did choose to sleep around. Only a woman could make decisions for her body and not be punished by the Goddess and her temples.

When everyone was leaving that night, Faleron held back. He looked between Roald and Gwen who was still cleaning up and then went to her.

"I want you to know, that I know what you meant when you said you'd be offended if I fell in love. You know what I'm not looking for and you know I'm likely to not find it in the ladies that come searching for me. And ignore the others, they tease because they think that I am in some special position with all of these ladies after me. They don't understand like you and I do." He smiled at her and gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning to Roald. Roald watched the blush rise up Gwen's cheeks for only a moment before he raised an eyebrow at his best friend waiting to hear what else he had to say. "You and I both know you had someone in your mind when I asked you about women you think I should meet. You can't use that diplomatic tone on me and think I won't recognize it."

"You caught me out," Roald knew Faleron probably would but he had prepared for this moment. "The woman isn't in a position to court right now or I would have mentioned her before. I will let you know if her situation changes." And he would likely let Faleron know, in two years, after Gwen had survived her Ordeal and if Faleron was still unattached. The 'if Faleron was still unattached' part was the more difficult to determine. His mother seemed to be getting more and more persistent with her letters about finding a lady and it was likely she'd take the decision out of his hands after far too many years of him stalling.

"I'm going to make you swear on that," Faleron pushed.

"I swear should the time become right, I will point you in her direction."


	21. Chapter 21

If Gwen could actually hate her sister, there was a good chance it would be at this very moment when she walked into her suite of rooms to find Aurelia in her dressing room wearing one of her new gowns and holding up different pieces of her jewelry to see what would look better.

"You aren't wearing my gown and put those away, nicely like they were," Gwen growled. She had never invited Aurelia into her rooms and she hadn't even been there and the door had been locked. So how the woman had gotten in, she didn't know. She only knew this was typical Aurelia behavior.

"But Gwenie, dear sister, don't you want me to be at my best when I meet Sir Faleron?" She purred. It sounded like something she would use on a lover to make him do exactly what she wanted, not how women talked to each other. So either she believed Gwen had no feminine qualities and could be manipulated so, or she had spent far too much time doing it to men and had forgotten it didn't work on people not interested in seeing what was under those clothes.

"You look your best in clothes made to fit you. Not clothes made to fit me," Gwen tried. "And Sir Faleron has seen all of those jewels. He helped me get them appraised. He won't be impressed if he knew you were borrowing from me." It wasn't exactly a lie but she knew the thought process of her sister and of other ladies like her. She wanted to be seen in something new so that Sir Faleron could be fully dazzled by her. He would hardly be dazzled if he had seen it before, especially if he knew it was borrowed from her masculine younger sister.

"I suppose you're right. You are smaller breasted." She tugged at the bodice trying to get it to reveal more cleavage. If she pulled down anymore her breasts were liable to pop out over the top and then it was likely that Faleron really would have something to look at. But she couldn't exactly tell her sister that. "And these shoulders don't sit right. Must be all of that unfeminine muscle you try to hide. I suppose you shall just have to buy me a new gown instead to make up for yours being unsuitable." Gwen knew a bully when she saw one and she had never allowed her sister to bully her one day in her life and it would not start today. On top of that, there was no time for Aurelia to get a new gown. Midwinter started the following day and all dress shops would be finishing up other orders and wouldn't have time until after the holiday had ended.

"There is no chance of that happening. You have enough gowns, I'm busy, and you are taking time away from the things I need to be doing. Please take off my gown, carefully, and leave."

"I will tell Mother and Father you weren't hospitable to me," she pouted. It was a good threat but Gwen knew if she explained how things had happened, it was more likely they would be upset with Aurelia than with her.

"You break into my rooms when I'm busy squiring to his Highness and take my things without asking. I'll be hospitable when you come invited into my rooms and even then it won't be to my dressing room." She walked over to her sister and began to unlace the bodice herself. It might have been mean but she wasn't exactly having the best day to start with before this point. Some of Roald's friends must have joked outside of their evening group that she had a crush on Faleron and someone must have overheard. She was in the middle of the gossip at the palace and being targeted by women just like her sister for vicious small attacks. And now her sister was being difficult and purposefully making the gown hard to take off. "Are these really the traits you want me to tell Sir Faleron about you? I could go back and tell him to disregard all of the nice things I've said and that you're really just a manipulating, scheming child." Gwen had hit the right set of words for Aurelia to start to remove the gown herself. She had said the right set of words to make Aurelia suddenly become a decent person. All she simple had had to do was remind her sister that she herself was the one who had been talking her up, if she could call it that.

Shortly after she had discovered her sister was coming, Faleron had shown her letters from his mother describing Gwen's fief and sister to a letter as far as physical description. It was one of _those_ letters in which Faleron knew he was being set up by someone his mother deemed perfect. Whatever Aurelia had done to get the Countess' approval was beyond Gwen. But now that his mother was involved, Faleron had to give Aurelia more than a passing glance and a polite greeting. He had to escort her to a feast, maybe a party or two, and there would be private meetings where he could really get a moment or two of her personality. Once that was completed, he could tell her to go away.

The funny thing about the whole situation was Faleron had had no idea he was showing a letter about Aurelia. All he had known was the lady's age and had thought there was a chance Gwen might know who she was due to being at the Convent at the same time despite a two year age difference. When she had revealed who it was, Faleron had been horrified. He had described what he was obligated to do and the time he was required to spend by his mother with each of these kinds of women she sent his way and then he had apologized. Gwen understood. She knew his mother, there was only so much he could do to delay this and it was best to get it over with. Sadly it would be happening over Midwinter which would make it look like Faleron had made a choice. Aurelia had no idea Gwen was aware that Faleron's mother was talking her up too but she would know that Gwen could undo any descriptions of her being oh so good with just a few stories.

"Gwen?" She knew the voice of the man now calling her in sitting room. Her errand had taken too long and with the possible consideration that she might be a target to be eliminated after two failed assassination attempts, being gone longer than expected meant a fully trained knight could randomly be on his way to find her.

"You made me take too long," Gwen hissed at her sister as she pulled on her own gown. "That's Sir Faleron out there." She went to the bedroom door and leaned out. "I'm sorry something unexpected came up." Something really actually expected when she thought of the circumstances, just the timing was terrible.

"May I come back?" She knew he meant back to her room. He would want visual confirmation she wasn't being held hostage and speaking at weapon point.

"Behave, I'm working," she whispered to her sister before allowing Sir Faleron back into her room. By the time Faleron came through the door Aurelia was sitting on the chair in front of the vanity. "Sir Faleron of King's Reach, I'd like you to meet my sister Lady Aurelia of Merrywood," Gwen moved to stand behind her sister and rolled her eyes so that Faleron knew she was already exasperated with her sister and that was the hold up of her time.

"A pleasure to meet you," Faleron played his part well. He bowed over Aurelia's delicate white hand and brushed his lips over her fingers. "Gwen has told me much about you." He paused seeing something in Aurelia's look and amended himself before Gwen could give him a nonverbal warning. "I meant, she's told me some but I believe you could certainly tell me more."

"The pleasure is all mine," Aurelia was back to purring. "Perhaps I could tell you more another time, when you aren't looking for my errant sister. Please don't let me delay you from fetching her any longer." She stood and dipped a low, graceful curtsey to Faleron before dismissing herself altogether.

"Well she's… pleasant," Faleron informed Gwen with a small chuckle. "You haven't changed yet, I see." He nodded to her uniform which was still on her body.

"I would have changed earlier had my sister not broken into my room to permanently borrow a gown and jewels. Give me a moment." She disappeared into her dressing room. The whole reason she had come to her room was to change out of her uniform into something nicer for a preMidwinter gathering Roald had planned before insanity hit. Since Gwen would be serving at every other party over the holiday, she was asked, by Roald, to attend however she wanted. It wasn't a formal event but she could wear a less formal gown. But instead she opted to wear the same outfit she had planned to wear for dinner with Sir Nikolas almost a year before. The light pink blouse and gray, feminine breeches would be enough to still mark her as Roald's squire but not as someone in service at that time. When she stepped out she was trying to fasten the pink pearl earrings that matched the shirt into the holes in her ears.

"You look nice," Faleron complimented when she stepped out.

"I'll look nicer in a few moments." She sat down at her vanity and untwisted her hair from its knot to restyle it.

"You took a lot longer than just stopping your sister from taking a few things," Faleron sat down on the only other chair available in the room.

"I had to get her to take off the gown she was trying to steal. She made things difficult." Gwen was the last one to get ready for the party because she had been setting it up. And she may have lied to Aurelia by telling her that she was working. She was technically no longer working but she did tell Roald and Faleron, who had also been helping set everything up, that she would be back in less than a quarter of an hour.

"Oh," Faleron was watching her and she could see him in the mirror with a look that crossed between concern and discomfort. "And is anyone other than Aurelia giving you trouble?" He finally managed to ask. Of course he knew the gossip as well as she did. And he was probably guessing at or had heard some of the things that had been done to her. It was nothing that she couldn't deal with but it did take its toll.

"I think I'll do some face paint too. What did you think of Aurelia?" She knew she was avoiding the topic he wanted to discuss and she wasn't being crafty in the least about avoiding it.

"I'll have plenty of time to find out what I think about her. My mother sent me a letter finally disclosing her name and fief and told me I was to escort her to every feast, ball, and party and have social engagements with her for a week after that."

"You really will have time to get to know her," Gwen took a moment to line each eye with a quick precise stroke of a tiny paint brush and black eye paint. A little eyelash darkener and a tiny smidgen of pink lip paint and she was ready to go. When she stood to face Faleron she saw his eyes widen slightly as he took her look in.

"I dare say they teach ladies to do that so quickly at the Convent," he managed to tell her.

"They do and they don't. They teach the skills to apply face paint starting at the young ages. They do that so all of the ladies can apply their own paint with precision should their lady's maid be unavailable. I do it quickly because I've have years of practice and no lady's maid to slow me down. Shall we head to the party before Roald sends someone looking for you too?"

"The only thing he thinks I'll be attacked by is a mob of young ladies wanting my love, affection, and future." He shuddered. "I like the look by the way. It's very pretty." He waved at her clothes. "I wish more ladies would be sensible enough to wear something like that." Gwen couldn't help but start to laugh when she realized what Faleron had said. "What?" He stopped her at the door to the hallway to figure out why she was laughing.

"This is the outfit that caused me to be stood up, because I was wearing breeches," she squeezed out between laughs.

"I doubt he saw you properly then," Faleron informed her. "Now let's get on to this party." He opened the door to the hall and Gwen grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back just in time for him to avoid a cascade of slush from both sides of the door. Both ladies holding buckets looked in to make their warning because they believed they had only missed Gwen not, Sir Faleron. Before either of them could speak they caught sight of Faleron and both went pale.

"Well, Sir Faleron, I'm glad you could take a moment to meet my sister. I know she's been hoping I'd introduce you since I started as his Highness's squire," Gwen said rather loudly. "It might be a little slick on the way out, watch your step." Gwen knew it was a risk trying to come up with an excuse for Faleron to be in her room other than some sort of relationship. But if he was seen with her sister all throughout Midwinter there was a chance that the rumors of him and her being some sort of lovers would cease to exist. She also knew it was a risk to dismiss Faleron as if he had been the only one leaving her room. Both of the ladies were still poleaxed in place by shock and if Gwen was reading the signs right, Sir Faleron's infamous slow temper was starting to rise as he eyed the puddle outside of the door that appeared to be a mix of ice, snow, water, and a healthy dose of ash or mud. She guessed ash simply by the time of year as mud was hard to come by when it was so cold.

"Roald will be waiting for both of us," Faleron managed to say and wrapped a large hand around her shoulder to steer her from her suites. She stopped only long enough to lock the door securely before letting Faleron lead her passed the ladies and down two halls at a fast march before he stopped outside of the doors to the party. "If anyone pulls that crap again I'm going to trade rooms with you just to make sure they get what's properly coming to them."

"I wouldn't make that plan," Gwen started to say before she could catch herself. She had been about to add that he would have to follow through fairly quickly on moving but already she could see he had been at least a little serious. "I usually catch their tricks before they waste too much of my time," she switched tactics.

"I don't care if you're catching them before they hit you or anyone else with a prank. I care that they are targeting you for some stupid rumors. Do they do this to each other too?" Gwen knew it was a rhetorical question. She knew he didn't expect an answer but at the same time she could answer. No, they didn't do this to each other because they were all worthy real ladies and she was a whore of a squire who didn't deserve to sit in his shadow let alone have feelings for him. And worse would be if she was actually his sweetheart. She knew Faleron didn't need an answer because he knew all of this already. All of court knew this.

"Listen, we're late already," Gwen pushed open the door to the party. "Let's not keep his Highness waiting much longer, alright?" Faleron drew in a deep breath and she thought he was about to blow his top on her for not allowing him to lecture her on dealing with this crap alone or for dealing with it at all. Instead he let it out in a huff and then hugged her briefly around the shoulders.

"At least tell me if it gets really out of hand," he walked past her into the party.

"You live next door to me. I doubt I could hide it," she muttered but Sir Faleron was already out of hearing range.


	22. Chapter 22

Roald looked up from his spot by the fireplace at the party the third night of Midwinter. He could see Gwen, holding her tray and smiling prettily at those coming to get cups of wine from her. He could also see Neal and Yuki 'debating' again, and he guessed they passionately argued and then later would passionately make up and perhaps they would soon have another child on the way as well. He usually made quiet jokes like that to Shinko but she wasn't feeling well with the pregnancy and had left only a few minutes in. Roald could see Faleron, also, when looking around. The man was not only talking to the woman he secretly thought of as 'the Gwen of a different color' but was also entertaining a full audience of women as he told stories.

Roald had been surprised when Aurelia had joined them the breakfast the first day of Midwinter. She looked like Gwen but her hair was light, her eyes brown, and her personality couldn't be more opposite. She treated Gwen like a servant though Gwen was sitting and enjoying breakfast with them. Aurelia had a comment on every food on the table, including the apple cakes that Faleron insisted the servants bring so Gwen could start enjoying her Midwinter early before she had to serve through the nights.

"Ugh! How can you eat those? Do you know how fat you'll get? Auntie Miriam ate things like that and her husband left her because of how fat she was."

"Great Aunt Miriam's husband died young in the Tusaine War," Gwen amended to the others in the room. "When she was still a new bride."

"Why else would he go and get himself killed? He was stuck with someone who could crush him. And you're going to get fat too on top of everything else." Roald knew there had to be more to that speech that the woman was refraining from saying. It sounded like she was adding up the thousand reasons Gwen would never marry. He himself had heard probably a hundred reasons from Gwen herself about her body being damaged, her lifestyle choice, her perceived lack of virginity… the list went on and on.

"Good Evening, Roald," he heard a purr that was Aurelia near him. He hated when Faleron was required to escort women by his mother because they believed they were on first name terms with him due to their position with Faleron. If only they knew he was required to be there with them, but no one was allowed to say it. At least Faleron wasn't too far away this time. He had gone to Gwen to fetch a few cups.

"Good Evening, Lady Aurelia," Roald kept his formality hoping she'd get the hint she had overstepped her boundaries. He didn't even glance at her for her to see the annoyance in his eyes if she could even recognize it.

"Are my sister and Sir Faleron close?" Aurelia asked suddenly. Following her gaze he could see Gwen and the man in question sharing a laugh.

"They work together often when I am unable to provide the proper teachings she needs to be a full knight. He's taken her on a border patrol and he takes care of her lessons in law. And they understand each other," Roald explained. "Better than I understand either of them." It was true too. He had caught both of them saying things like 'Oh don't do that to Sir Faleron, he'll hate it,' or 'Gwen would really appreciate the humor in this.' They were simple little things that told Roald his guess that they would work well in a relationship wasn't too far from truth. Only the fact that they weren't in a romantic relationship stopped him from mentioning they knew each other a little too well.

"There are rumors that Gwen has a crush on him," Aurelia added. "I can see where they come from. I'll sadly have to discourage such fraternizing when he and I marry." Before Roald could recover from his surprise enough to respond, Faleron turned and started to walk towards them. Was it that she was so possessive that she wanted to keep Faleron completely to herself and avoid any misunderstandings about where his devotions were lain down? Or was it that she wanted to deprive her sister of everything that seemed to not belong in her life such as money, gowns, jewels, and, apparently, friends and Faleron would be more bound to listen if they were married. He sincerely hoped that there was nothing about Aurelia that Faleron enjoyed. But he was also bound by a code of silence that seemed to follow such situations. He couldn't approach Faleron and say that the woman he was escorting had said such things. He didn't want to sow any seeds of discord and he didn't want to appear to be trying to break them apart even if Faleron wasn't interested. Faleron would have to make his own decisions.

Every night of Midwinter was much the same: a feast in the late afternoon served by pages, a few minutes to freshen up, a knighting at sunset, and then a party in one of the ballrooms. There was always music and dancing available at every party and there was always food and drinks being served. And each night a squire went into the Chamber of Ordeal and each morning a knight emerged.

Roald loved and hated Midwinter usually for many reasons, but mostly he learned he disliked Aurelia throughout the entire Midwinter event list. She was at everything, tailing Faleron like one of Kel's sparrows forever chatting in his ear. He had hoped with the end of the Midwinter parties she would be done with and he would not have to deal with her again. And luck had it, the first morning after Midwinter had ended Faleron had sought him out and they planned to have a quiet breakfast without petty conversation about fashion, gossip, or self praise. They had intended to include Gwen but found when they opened the door to her rooms that they weren't ever safe from Aurelia and neither was Gwen.

The door to Gwen's office was slightly ajar and Aurelia's whine could be heard easily in the sitting room.

"But Gwenie!" Roald imagined his squire cringing at the name. He knew she hated that nickname. Which, now that he thought about it, was likely the reason Aurelia used it. Or perhaps it was because Aurelia used it that she hated it. He made a note to ask Gwen to satisfy his curiosity. "You can do better than that," came the rest of Aurelia's whine.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you!" Gwen's snap was eye opening. Roald had never actually heard her mad and by the look on Faleron's face he was just as surprised. "Let's recap the last couple of weeks. You sweep into the palace, break into my rooms, attempt to take my belongings without asking, demand I buy you new things, tell me I should stop talking to one of my mentors because you feel your chance of him courting you is threatened by his kindness towards me, ask for me to donate what wealth I have earned to you so you can have an even larger dowry after already absorbing my original dowry into yours, AND now you think the Midwinter gift I gave you was insufficient?"

Roald swallowed hard. He had seen the necklace Gwen had gone out of her way to buy her sister when she found out she was coming. The necklace was alternating rubies and amber colored topaz set in gold and cost a small fortune and would have been fit for his mother or wife more than a lady from a small fief. It wasn't even one of Gwen's own pieces of jewelry. She had had it made for her sister. And now her sister was telling her it wasn't enough? That she could have done more?

"You have so much you aren't using! That you're never going to use! You're being so selfish!" Aurelia was throwing a fit that even Roald's son Kai could not have done better. He imagined she was just short of throwing herself on the floor to kick and scream. "And you just whored yourself out to get all of it. That pretty armor, the gowns, the jewels, the money… you spread your legs and demand trinkets in return!"

If Gwen were a mage, Roald guessed he would see whatever color her Gift would be lighting up the doorway. To be accused of being a whore was bad enough but to have it come from her sister. But instead of the angry yell he expected to hear, he heard a rustle of cloth instead.

"What are you doing?" Aurelia demanded. "Why are you taking off your shirt?"

"I'm sure you've heard the stories of what has been happening at court. I thought mother and father would have told you," Gwen's voice was calm. "These three scars, here, here, and here are from the arrows that were meant for his Highness, Midsummer not last year but the one before. His healers saved my life. The armor if a gift from him for saving his life. This scar right here, through this shoulder, that's from the dagger of a supposed diplomat who wanted to start a war between Tusaine and thought the best way to do it was to attack or murder the Prince. The Prince of Tusaine, Edric, brought me the jewels, and the money, and the bolts of fabric that I had made into those gowns, as a thank you for saving him from an expensive war. And this scar right here," Roald frowned. He wasn't aware there were more. "This is from the charm I had to wear all last Midsummer to detect poison. The magic detected the poison so long it, it left this scar. Yes, I've abused my body and yes it's been lain down for his Highness, but not in the way you accuse me of. And I'd gladly collect more scars without reward for His Highness."

Whatever Roald or Faleron expected to hear next after that speech, Aurelia didn't seem all that moved. "You're so damaged Gwenie. Those gowns will let men see those scars and they'll know how ruined you are." They heard a sigh and it was hard to tell if it came from Aurelia or Gwen. "I wish you had stayed at the Convent. You wouldn't be so damaged and you would be able to one day know how wonderful a man's touch is."

"Like you know a man's touch," Gwen snorted. "Unless you broke the rules of being a perfect lady and let some man touch you before marriage."

"No, you're right. I don't know for certain but I can speculate based on how Sir Faleron kisses me at night that it would be just as wonderful."

Roald glanced at Faleron shocked that he had been kissing Aurelia, shocked that he had been intimate in any way with her. Was he that physically in need that it didn't matter who he was kissing? He knew that usually, when Faleron was craving a physical relationship, he picked women who knew he wasn't going to marry them and knew the terms were simply physical. Aurelia did not fall into that category. The man in question looked surprised. Likely surprised that Aurelia thought so much of his kisses or that she was telling Gwen. But he couldn't dwell on that now, he heard them moving towards the door of the study. Without a word he tugged on Faleron's arm and they slipped into the dining room off of the sitting room to wait out Aurelia leaving.

"One day, when Faleron and I are married, I'll make sure to find you a suitable man. He likely won't be noble or all that handsome but you're just going to have to make due." Aurelia said as they entered the sitting room. The door to the hallway opened and then closed and there was a quiet moment before they heard Gwen reply.

"How gracious of you," she was obviously being sarcastic and had waited for Aurelia to leave before making her retort. "Perhaps you'd do me a bigger favor and forget me altogether." Faleron didn't wait for Roald to announce either of them though Roald was the only other person with keys to Gwen's rooms. He stepped out and Roald followed surprised to see Gwen wasn't surprised at all to see them.

"Spying to hear how good of a kisser she thinks you are?" The venom in Gwen's voice wasn't missing. She hadn't been lying when she said she would be offended if he actually ended up liking her sister.

"She's making all of that up. I haven't even escorted her back to her rooms at night," Faleron informed her. He frowned and then looked Gwen over. Her shirt was bunched in places where showing she had pulled it on and hadn't adjusted it to sit right, the collar was askew showing a thin white line just under her collarbone. "She absorbed your dowry?" Faleron asked finally as he set her shirt straight for her with a brisk tug on the collar and on the hem.

"It was part of the price of becoming a page rather than a lady." She shrugged. "If I opted out of a traditional marriage by trying for my knighthood, then I no longer needed a dowry. And the reality we were well aware of was that most noblemen don't believe a knight is a good choice for a wife. It takes a special man to marry a lady knight. There's only so many of those about right now."

"I hope someday I'll have a kingdom of smarter men," Roald mumbled to himself.

"That will take a few generations of lady knights, I think," Gwen informed him. "Until then, she's actually right. It is unlikely I will meet a nobleman who would be willing to marry me. I'm not upset she absorbed my dowry." She shrugged. "At this rate I'm more just upset at how demanding she has been since she arrived here."

"I think I've seen enough of her that I have already made my decision," Faleron sighed. "I can't believe you two are sisters. If you didn't look alike…"

"I'd love to say it was all the Convent's doing, but we've always been like this," Gwen threw herself down in her chair. Roald had made sure she knew that if he or anyone else was a visitor in her rooms, she did not need to be a servant. She could sit, move around, do whatever she wanted. This was her home. As valuable as she had been thus far, he was fairly certain it would be her permanent home until she outgrew it by having a family.

"Well, no matter, we've come to invite you to join us for a quiet breakfast," Roald offered her a hand. "A breakfast full of apple cakes with no one to tell you how fat you'll get," he teased when she took his hand. As he lifted her out of the chair one handed he realized with a bit of surprise how light she felt. Had he ever lifted her before? No, he hadn't, so there was no way to compare. But she did look thinner. That was worrisome on its own. He'd have to make sure there was food about and she was able to stop and eat whenever and wherever they were working. He wasn't about to let her get ill because she couldn't afford to lose a few pounds. Perhaps if he told the servants she also had a fondness of custards and cakes stuffed with custards, she would be so overloaded with fattening foods that she would put some weight on. He was certainly going to load her plate up with eggs and bacon and oatcakes.

"Sure, let me go get properly dressed," she turned and went back into her study.

"No uniform!" Roald called after her. When she was gone and out of sight he turned to Faleron. "Does she look smaller to you?"

"A little. I assume her sister has been hounding her a bit and she's been busy with Midwinter. You may not recall any of this because you spent your squirehood as the Crowned Prince, but serving meant you barely got a moment's rest during Midwinter evenings and little to eat even when working in shifts." He caught Roald's eye and realized that things weren't going to be let go all of that easy. "I'll help keep an eye on her. Now let's have a breakfast in peace before I go and tell Aurelia our future plans are cancelled because I do not see a future with us working out."

"Better keep Gwen a safe distance away when you do it. I'm sure her sister will believe it is entirely her fault." And to that both of them agreed.


	23. Chapter 23

"Gwen! You whore!"

Gwen heard the sound echo throughout her room as the door slammed open. She had been warned, at least, by Roald what was about to happen. It had been Faleron's intention not to mention her name at all, or so his Highness had mentioned to her but there was always a chance, if pressed, Faleron would give in and give her name as part of the reasons. She waited in her study working on a letter home to her parents. She didn't dare respond at all until Aurelia opened the door to her study with a slow hand and a dark glare. She had been crying, it was obvious to see the puffy eyes and the tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Oh no!" Gwen stood and went to gather her into her arms. They were sisters after all and she never wanted to see her sister heartbroken by a man, even if it was over her sister's treatment of her. Aurelia sat in her arms for all of two seconds before throwing her off. "What's wrong?"

"Sir Faleron ended our courtship this morning!" She growled. "I can't imagine why he'd go from kissing me and asking to bed me at night to breaking off our courtship without you interfering." If Gwen didn't know better she'd swear she heard the kiss of the sitting room door shutting and footsteps in the sitting room. And if Gwen didn't know better she'd guess that Aurelia had left the door open and Faleron had walked in to see what was going on. He was the type to check in when he heard loud noises coming from her suite. Aurelia didn't seem to notice the extra noise so she continued on with her screeching. "You couldn't stand that I did what you couldn't. That I could snag the unattainable man! I got his mother to approve of me! I was this close to being the next Countess of King's Reach!"

"Aurelia, do you really believe I would have taken that from you?" It wasn't a lie. Gwen would have accepted, although grudgingly, the relationship had Faleron truly enjoyed Aurelia's company.

"Yes!" Came the cry of response. "You're jealous of me and you didn't want me to succeed!"

"Will you hush!" Gwen whispered hearing something beyond the doorway that did not sound like Sir Faleron anymore. Above her sister's shrieking she was certain she had heard something that sounded like a sword being drawn.

"I will not hush!" Aurelia burst into tears. "You were always jealous of me, that's why you go out of your way to be an embarrassment to me!" Gwen wasn't listening anymore. Instead she had gone to the door and peeked through the crack in the door. There was a small, slight person in her sitting room dressed in simple clothes with a sword drawn and was advancing on the door.

"Aurelia, listen to me right now, please," Gwen whispered. "Go back to the bedroom and lock the door. Do not come out until I say so."

Gwen didn't expect to be obeyed. She didn't expect her sister to stop complaining long enough to hear, but she must have heard something in Gwen's voice to realize she was asking because it was important. When Gwen looked back, Aurelia was heading through the door into the bedroom and locking it behind her.

Gwen unsheathed the sword always at her waist and threw open the door to the sitting room. The man on the other side did not make noise as his sword flashed. She had expected something like this before, when it had been brought up over a year before that she was a target to be eliminated. She had been mildly surprised, not unhappily, when no such things had happened after her second Midsummer thwarting of assassinations. The assassin smirked at her sword sitting in her right hand, ready for use.

He lunged in towards her and she was well aware she was facing an expert swordsman. The man moved without warning, his torso giving away not one hint of his next move. Gwen dodged the silver blur that could easily take off a limb or vital part of her body with little effort. Despite the near silence, except for the hiss of moving blades, Gwen's mind was roaring with activity. Should she stay silent or call for help? She didn't want to endanger anyone else who came running to her aid unarmed. Did she aim to kill when she did attack, or incapacitate? The spymasters would want to question the assassin should he live long enough but suicide spells were fast acting and it was likely he had at least one if not two or three on him. All of the best assassins carried extra ways to protect their employers like that. Help or silence? Dead or alive? She continued to question as her blade made contact with his. The noise the resulted was far louder than she thought it would be and she knew silence wasn't completely an option and anyone listening would hear the noise.

The blade danced back into her view and she kept her feet moving, dodging the blur of silver while trying to provide attacks in return. The ringing of metal on metal echoed in her sitting room. The assassin was fast, she was just a hair faster. Each time he slipped past her defense her body was only missed by an inch. She had endurance, did he? She didn't dare look up at his face to see if he perspired or showed signs of tiring. The speed and accuracy of movements said he was doing fine enough for now and she had best worry about blocking and disarming him somehow before she worried about how tired he might be. To her surprise, there wasn't a lot of footwork. There wasn't a lot of space to do much for footwork between chairs and the coffee table. If she back-stepped out of reach, she closed right back in to attack and he did the same.

Two things happened at the exact same moment. In the doorway behind her she heard a sharp intake of breath and then a scream that could only be Aurelia. In the precious moment of time she took to turn and look to make sure there wasn't a second attacker going after her sister, she felt the blade snake up to kiss her throat but it moved no further. When she glanced back she saw a faint dark green outline around the assassin and his features perfectly frozen in place, the cocky smirk still there.

"He's frozen," came the mild comment from her doorway. The second thing to simultaneously happen with Aurelia's entrance was Sir Nealan coming through her door and spelling the assassin. "Let's check pockets for poisons and charms, shall we?"

Gwen recovered slightly from her near death experience, recovered just enough to realize that Sir Neal was enjoying himself as he frisked through the assassins pockets. Somewhere behind her Aurelia was hyperventilating by the office door but she couldn't focus too much on that. She had to help Neal with searching the assassin. With luck they could clear him of spells and poisons that would kill him before questioning.

"What in Mithros name is going on here?" Gwen heard as she withdrew her hand from an empty pocket. "I have half of the hall saying there was weapon play going on in here." A guard, it had to be by the sound of it, had responded to someone else in the hall complaining of noise.

"If you would please find his Highness Roald of Conte as well as Sir Myles of Olau and tell them we have an assassin being held in Squire Gwendolyn's rooms." Neal sent the guard away. He turned back to Gwen and quietly explained what they might be looking for. By the time help arrived in the form of Roald, Faleron, Myles, and Baron George Cooper, Neal was showing her how to check the linings and hems of the clothing for other hiding places.

"Will someone check on her? I think she fainted," Neal nodded back to where Aurelia had been. "Some people aren't cut out for this type of action."

"Handy spell," Roald crouched down next to Gwen while she checked the hem of the man's breeches.

"So long as I maintain enough focus in keeping him from moving," Neal muttered.

"Can we move his arms?" George asked. The man still stood with his sword arm raised though the sword had been removed.

"You can. He just can't move himself." Neal confirmed.

"Is he aware?" Myles asked.

"Interesting question. We'll have to ask when I let him go," Neal stepped back and handed a small pouch that had been stuffed into the assassin's shoe. Gwen moved away with a vial she had pulled from the lining of his sleeve. When they were clear George bound the man's wrists and ankles and he was bent into a chair. Once he was settled and tied into place, George gave a nod to Neal and the dark green tint in the air around the man dissipated. The smirk on his face slowly fell as the man became aware of his situation.

"What sorcery is this?" He demanded. "I kill the chit and suddenly I'm strapped to a chair?"

"You didn't kill the lass," George's smile was the kind that made someone wish they had walked away long before they accepted the contract.

"I guess that answers the question on if he was aware," Myles muttered as George shifted Gwen into view so the assassin could see he wasn't lying.

"You were caught by a mage before you could finish the deed. Now you're going to answer a few questions for me and we'll see if I can work something out in your favor." Gwen felt a hand settled on her shoulder and she was turned away from the assassin's wide eyed stare to face Roald and just beyond him, Faleron helping Aurelia off of the floor.

"Come on, it's better if you're not here for the rest of this," Roald threw an arm around Gwen's shoulders and nodded for Faleron to follow. Both Gwen and Aurelia were brought into Roald's study where a double guard waited at the doors. "Are you hurt at all?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps I hit my head when I fainted," Aurelia simpered cozying up to the arm Faleron still lent her for support.

"I meant Gwen. Or perhaps, you were also in the fighting?" Roald turned to look Aurelia over.

"Damn you, Auri," Gwen finally gained her voice. "Why couldn't you listen to me for once and just stay in the bedroom until I said it was clear? I almost had my head hacked off because you couldn't follow one simple set of instructions."

"How was I supposed to know you weren't just trying to get rid of me? And you were taking forever!" Aurelia clutched tighter at Faleron's arm.

"Because," she gritted her teeth at the stupidity of that question. "Because I would have sent you out the other door had I been trying to get rid of you." Roald stopped her.

"Fal, will you take her out for a moment?" Roald sent them out of the door and left just Gwen standing with him. "Tell me everything." And she did, stopping only to clarify some details when Roald pressed for more information. When she was done Roald brought her to the door and traded her for Aurelia and closed the door leaving her in the hallway with Faleron.

"You okay?" Faleron asked when they were both quiet for a solid minute.

"A little shaken," she admitted. "More so by Auri screaming behind me; I thought she was in trouble too…" Faleron's arms around her made her stop talking mostly because she knew she didn't need to say anymore but also because she was surprised by the sudden feeling of warmth that flooded the places his body touched hers. To her horror she felt her cheeks burning with a blush. What was wrong with her?

But she knew exactly what was wrong. She had known for a while she indeed did have a crush on Sir Faleron, which brought her back to 'What was wrong with her'? She knew better. Sir Faleron had his pick of the ladies. She had grown up knowing his was as unattainable as one of the Princes. All of them were bound for something, someone, of better blood and better training. Alliances were built on such marriages. In Sir Faleron's case not alliances between countries but alliances between fiefdoms, which in their own rights were tiny kingdoms within the kingdom. But it wasn't fair! Why did he have to be so handsome? Well she knew he was handsome long before she ever met him in person. But why did he have to be so nice and reasonable? Why did he have to be funny and slow tempered? Why did he have to be so intelligent?

The worst part was a small voice in her head telling her that her crush was more justified than any of the other ladies that wanted him. They only had crushes because he was unattainable, wealthy, and would make them Countess. But even with that voice in her corner, she didn't feel better about it and now she had the added guilt of her sister having been turned down by him likely because of her. She had been doing a great job since she had realized her crush keeping it under wraps with only a few minor slip ups that Sir Faleron had attributed elsewhere. Except for now, when Sir Faleron was holding her like this and she was standing thunderstruck with her heart rate increasing and her cheeks burning.

"Are you sure you're okay? Your heart is pounding." Faleron held her back at arm's length to look her over.

"Like I said, it was a little close," Gwen at least had an excuse due to the guest in her room. "What do you think his Highness is talking to Auri about?"

"No idea. Probably you since he tossed you back out to me," Faleron cupped her face with one large hand for a moment and then let her go. "We can't let you out of our sight. Trouble seems to find you." She at least recognized the tease and managed a smile as she remembered the other two times he had hugged her. Both had been a result of the bandit attack on her patrol.

"Two times in a year and a half!" She told him. "Two separate incidents in all of the time I have squired to his Highness and now I need to be kept under watch?"

"There were also two assassination attempts and the poisoning."

"All within your sight, and the poisoning wouldn't have been a problem if someone hadn't knocked me over and it hadn't spilled all over me." She turned it on him. It was hard to remember she was embarrassed about their contact and ashamed of her crush when Faleron was giving her that damned smile.

"I guess that one was my fault. I guess most of all of what has happened to you in the last year and a half has been my fault," he stopped smiling and touched her shoulder where one of her arrow scars was.

"That's not…" she saw him shake his head at her.

"I suppose you weren't aware of all of my duties to Roald. The main one being that I act as his personal guard. As I'm his best friend it was a natural choice since I am always around. I should have been there to protect him that first night that you took those arrows, but I was off dancing with another of my mother's picks. And the Tusaine talks? I was right there next to him and you were across the room but I didn't protect him like I should have. And yes, I did make a mess of the poisoning and spill it all over you. One small cut anywhere it touched and you might have died because of that. I let you go unsupervised by a full knight or sergeant on a patrol on the border and trouble found you. And today, I told your sister I couldn't see a future with us together based on what I've seen of her and that I wasn't interested in seeing more. She went to your room, and sadly I knew she would, and she distracted you and almost cost you your life." He took his hand away and she realized how cold her shoulder was now that he wasn't touching it. And somewhere in her mind she connected the dots with him as he spoke. She could see his thinking and his reasoning and he would beat himself up over it now that he realized it. She also knew he was wrong.

"You're taking blame for things you didn't have control over," Gwen told him trying to gain some sort of control in the conversation. "The person that hired those assassins are to blame for the assassination attempts. And those bandits… they would have attacked whether you or a sergeant accompanied me or not. Also Aurelia is to blame for her actions, not you." She meant to say more but the door behind her opened and Roald was sending Aurelia away while waving Faleron and her back inside. She couldn't just leave the conversation where it was without confirmation he had heard her, but she also knew Roald wouldn't approve of Faleron taking the blame for everything else. "Do I make myself clear?" She allowed herself, turning to face Faleron and Faleron only. His eyes went wide for a moment and then he managed a small smile.

"Of course, Lady Squire," he bowed to her. Before he could rise, she went to join Roald. She didn't want the annoyance of his joke of calling her Lady Squire to show on her face to let him know it was a good way to tease her. She had managed to get rid of that name along with Nik and Edric and she didn't want it to regain footing. For a moment she managed to think that the nickname was the last thing she needed, then she realized there was an assassin being questioned in her suite and she had been his target. Perhaps a nickname wasn't so bad as that.


	24. Chapter 24

It was well after midnight and Roald was sitting someplace he had never thought he'd be at this hour: in his squire's study. She was asleep in the room beyond and he meant to leave it that way. His original excuse had been because Gwen couldn't sleep after the attack having been in her room earlier that day, but the door that stood slightly ajar between them revealed her soft, steady breathing that marked her well asleep nearly two hours before. But now it was simply because he couldn't sleep.

Most squires had a chance of dying before they even faced their Ordeals. Knight masters took them into dangerous situations often. His own knight master had taken him into several fights he had been certain he wouldn't make it out of. Sir Imrah had not coddled the Crowned Prince which had been something he had valued. But Gwen wasn't being taught how to be a knight in these dangerous situations. She was being taught one particular life lesson, she was in the way. She was in the way of assassins wanting to kill her because she had gotten in the way of them killing him. Yet she was as tough as ever. He wouldn't have even known she was having trouble sleeping if he hadn't come to check on her for his own sanity.

The assassin had not wanted to talk and had not been too thrilled at being caught in a way that kept him from accessing his escape into death. Wanting answers sooner than later, some blood had been spilled. But Roald hadn't seen the results of that particular venture other than having the rugs in Gwen's sitting room traded out and the chair on which the assassin had sat. Gwen had appeared slightly unhappy with the changes and explained quietly, when Roald had Faleron ask, that the rug that had been in the sitting room had been one of the things she had sent to Merrywood for. He didn't remember what the rug looked like but the fact she had sent for it had him feeling guilty.

More than just the furniture in the room had changed since the attack. Mage locks had been added to all of the doors in the suite. The locks, if picked, would wrap the door in bright light and issue a loud noise that would alert guards or anyone within a thousand feet that someone was trying to break into her suite. The windows in her suite were given the same treatment for anyone trying to pry into them from the outside. Visibly, no changes other than the furniture had happened but he could feel the mage locks like a security blanket.

Another thing on his mind keeping him awake also pertained to his squire, or rather Sir Faleron and his squire. He had acknowledged before Midwinter it was likely Gwen had had a crush on Faleron. That was something he could believe without much thought. Faleron was a good catch and Gwen wasn't immune to being a woman though she pretended to be. What he was finding that surprised him was Faleron seemed to be coming to the realization Roald had already come to before Midwinter: Gwen was a good match for him. Did he believe Faleron had a crush? Not exactly. What he did believe was that Faleron was in awe of the young woman. And the moment Faleron had made the connection had been written all over his face when Roald had opened the door and Gwen had asked if she had been clear. She had turned away when he had bowed and called her 'Lady Squire' and Roald had been privy to the annoyance on her face likely to the name. He had also been privy to the look on Faleron's face when he had risen.

Faleron didn't exactly respect the ladies that threw themselves at his feet. He didn't respect them because he claimed they didn't respect themselves enough to have a little dignity. In most cases, he was right. Had he told nearly any of the ladies he wanted to tumble them to see if they could be a good fit to be his wife, most of them would line up at the door of his bedroom and wait their turn. Those that would tell him 'no' would likely do so because they knew that they were to remain virgins until marriage and they believed there was still a chance Faleron would tell them 'no' after they had given themselves over. That deserved respect in itself, but that wasn't enough for Faleron to really respect a woman. Faleron respected a woman who respected herself enough to know what she wanted for herself, who could stand up for herself, on top of whatever other qualities he was looking for. And when Faleron had risen from that bow, Roald had known instantly that the bow, and the title of 'Lady Squire' had not been in jest but purely out of respect.

There was a chance now that Faleron might actually attempt to pursue Gwen. _If_ he had become aware that Gwen was such a good match it was unlikely he would want to wait. Faleron viewed the endless line of Convent ladies as a torture and he would likely want it to end. _If_ Faleron then pursued Gwen and _if_ Gwen did indeed have a crush on Faleron, there was little to stop them. And Roald didn't want to stop them. He didn't want to deny them happiness if the two of them would be happy together. But it would complicate things. His best friend and his squire… together. The gossip would be as bad as he imagined or worse. Just the rumor that Gwen might have a crush on Faleron had caused issues for her. It was likely the aggression would go to her and bypass Faleron altogether.

"You're still here?" The voice made Roald nearly jump out of his skin. The door to the hall had been locked tight and the only two people with keys were both inside. The alarm should have sounded. Worse, it was Faleron that was standing in the doorway between the sitting room and the study. How had he gotten in so quietly? And why was he in these rooms well after midnight? "Gwen asked that Neal and I have keys to her rooms," Faleron offered before Roald could even ask. It might have been in the way he looked back at the sitting room wondering if the door had been unlocked. "In case she were to get locked out, or worse, locked in with something undesirable."

"Well that answers one question," Roald raised an eyebrow at his best friend. The other question should have been just as obvious.

"You want to know why I'm here at this hour?" Faleron asked. He glanced at the slightly open door to the bedroom and then he sat down in the chair opposite of Roald at Gwen's desk. "Short and plain, I was worried about her."

"Why are you worried about her, Fal? She's not your squire." Roald knew it was a little harsh sounding but he wanted to get an answer to see how far things were along. He wanted to know what he was facing.

"Why am I worried about her? Really? I spend just as much time with her as you do. And you even sent me on that border patrol with her. I've spent more time with her than you have," Faleron slammed his hand down on Gwen's desk. For a moment Roald believed he might have pushed too hard then the rustle of blankets and sheets in the other room made Faleron look instantly sheepish for his outburst. They stayed silent for another moment until the rustling settled and quiet returned to the bedroom.

"You've made your point," Roald held up a hand to stop Faleron. "But I saw the way you looked at her earlier." He saw Faleron tilt his head almost in the same fashion Gwen did when she didn't understand something fully. "When I opened the door to let Aurelia go."

"Oh… she just surprised me is all. What did you have to say to Aurelia that couldn't be said in front of Gwen and myself?" Roald didn't care much for the deflection but if Faleron was really not ready to admit whatever was going on in his mind then he wasn't about to act on it with Gwen. That at least was something Roald could count on.

"It could have been said in front of both of you but I doubt Lady Aurelia could have handled the audience as I explained how she had nearly cost her sister her life and how this petty feud she's dreamed up between them has gone too far. I did tell her if she continued to disrupt Gwen's work with such outbursts as this afternoon and several we've come across before, I'll have to ask her to leave court." Roald shrugged. "She didn't want to leave simply because she didn't want to be removed from the chance at having one of those lords that come to pick up the pieces of the broken hearted ladies you leave behind."

"So what has you here this late then? Gwen's sleeping just fine," Faleron nodded to the door.

"I've been thinking about the danger I put her in. I know we mentioned over a year ago that her saving my life once made her a possible target to be eliminated. But now she's proving if they want me dead in the most direct way, they'll have to deal with her first." Roald fingered the grain of the wood on the desk. "I honestly thought it would be a friend or family long before it was a seventeen year old girl that was targeted to get at me. I guess I'm surprised."

"I'm not. She takes duty seriously. Protecting you is her primary duty in her mind," Faleron settled back in his chair.

"It should be one of the last. Learning to be a knight should be her primary duty," Roald sighed.

"The thing about most knights is they have to find their place. Kel's is with the people. Mine is at your side. Neal's is as a field medic. Owen as a bandit hunter. Lord Raoul found his with the Own by happy accident. Others find theirs in places like ambassadorships, magistrates, spymasters, desk knights. I think that's the hardest part of being a squire, is learning where you will fit best as a knight. Gwen found her spot here with you. I have no doubt should she survive being your squire, she'll make it a point to be at your side when you are King."

"I find it funny how you point out she might not survive but that I will. The attempts are to murder me." Roald pointed out.

"And they would need to go through Gwen and myself long before they get there," Faleron tipped the chair back a bit. "Did you know the assassin finally admitted he was hired in Tortall. He was paid up front 100 gold crowns for Gwen and he would have received a bonus of a thousand gold crowns should he have managed to kill you as well."

"100 gold crowns for a squire… did he mention a name? Where he was hired from? Anything else?" While the price seemed small in comparison to his price, it was still fairly expensive and most fiefs wouldn't pay it up front to a man who might not succeed.

"He said he's not from Tortall, my guess was Maren or Tusaine by his accent, and he wasn't familiar with the town name. He just stopped at the first place to get a drink and a bed and was hired by another mercenary. Neal told me that Myles theorized they used a trail of mercenaries to handle the hiring and they picked a random mercenary in the line to send along. Information gets harder to trace back when the line is long and indirect. Baron Cooper thought they might have handed the contract and the money to more than one person and he was just the first to make it here or the only one to make it this far…" Faleron stopped talking as the door to the bedroom opened and Gwen stepped out, sleepy and bed tousled, and put herself in the only other chair. "You should go back to sleep."

"If you wanted that you shouldn't hold meetings outside of my open bedroom door," Gwen informed them with a yawn.

"She has a point," Roald wasn't unhappy to see she was awake for this information. It meant he wouldn't have to find a time to repeat the information to her. "How much did you hear?"

"I woke up to something along the lines of '100 crowns for me and 1000 for you'," Gwen rubbed at her bleary eyes. "Have either of you slept?" Both Roald and Faleron looked up at each other not wanting to answer the question honestly. Roald knew if Faleron admitted he had been too worried to sleep and had finally given in to come check on Gwen, it would confirm what Roald had been prodding at earlier. If Roald admitted he hadn't slept, he'd get chided by a sleepy Gwen. "Real subtle," she told them both fighting back another yawn.

"Really Gwen, go back to sleep. You don't get enough of that," Faleron stood and reached down to grab Gwen's hand to haul her up out of her chair. "Back to bed with you."

"But what about the rest of the information on the assassin?" Gwen protested.

"We don't have anything else yet. They're still working on him. Anything else I'm sure someone will find Roald and tell him directly." Faleron stopped trying to drag Gwen and bent down to scoop her up.

Roald stayed sitting as he heard Gwen protest that he should set her down. If that was all of the information, then Gwen had as much as she needed to hear for now and she was too tired to remain awake while they sat and worried about things that could come to pass. And as Faleron carried Gwen into her bedroom, Roald thought for a moment that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if they did realize their feelings for one another and have a relationship. The two of them could use something to take their minds off of assassins and treason thoughts. He had his Shinko, who would be very willing to take his mind off of such things if he were to go wake her despite her pregnancy. And if Gwen or Faleron were to die before he was crowned after the next year, they would have at least had that long together. Roald stood and listened for a moment as Faleron seemed to be talking to Gwen about her lack of sleep being more important than his lack of sleep.

"I'm going to bed. I don't want to see either of your faces before midday," Roald called through the door. There was no response, he didn't expect there to be when Faleron was so busy digging himself into a hole about his rights verses her rights in the matter of sleep. Half way down the hall to his room he wondered if Faleron would end up in his squire's bed that night just to sleep. But that was no longer his worry. In fact, with Shinko on his mind, nothing was his worry right now.


	25. Chapter 25

No further news came from the assassin. He simply had been the tail end of a line of people and he had made it his business not to know who had hired him. All he knew was his employer would know who had managed the deed should Roald have died and that the payment would be sent to him. It seemed like far too much faith but in the end George confirmed that the man was no real assassin but a very lucky mercenary who managed to stumble on Gwen's location by hearing Aurelia talking to herself about how Gwen thought herself so high and mighty as Roald's squire, and then he had followed her straight to Gwen and through the door she had left wide open. He had been a competent swordsman hoping that the element of surprise would get him that far. He had no intention of attempting to kill the Prince who was likely better guarded than one small chit.

"What about the poison he was carrying? That usually marks a more professional assassin," Neal had demanded when they had been fully briefed.

"Picked up from an apothecary here in Corus, meant for Gwen should she prove to be in a more difficult spot or for himself should his employers have become upset he didn't finish the deed." George added. "He seems a smart man. Knows that money doesn't come without strings and if he had taken the money and walked away or if he failed it was likely something would have happened to him."

"So they are watching," Roald found himself asking. The company in the room wasn't for the faint of heart. Those being officially briefed on the assassination attempt on Gwen started with King Jonathon and Queen Thayet as his parents and their concern for how close another attempt on his life had come. With them came Sir Gareth the Younger, Lord Raoul, his three captains of the Own, Commander Evin Larse of the Riders, Sir Myles, Lady Alanna, Baron George Cooper, Neal, and Faleron. While Gwen was the main focus of the meeting she was not 'attending' the meeting. She was standing in the back of the meeting pretending to be serving though no one had anything to eat or drink. It had been the only way Roald could bring her this time. The last meeting of such over a year before had been for her sake and simply her sake to bring her up to speed and have her included. This meeting was to catch the others up on what was known to the Spymasters. Since Gwen knew enough, she could have been dismissed to avoid distracting the others with their fears of what might upset her.

"Or they have spies in Corus. It would be big news if the Prince's beloved squire perished. Or even if an attempt on her life came into play. As it is, we've managed to keep this quiet. The only person that knows outside of this room is the guard that you sent to find us Neal. And him we've managed to swear to silence with a blood oath." George glanced around the room and his eyes settled on Gwen in the back. "You've been quiet lass. Care to throw in an oar?"

Roald hid a smile. George would have been notified by his parents that Gwen shouldn't have been attending the meeting in the first place, yet George was never one to bow down to Jonathon and Roald never forgot that he was one of the few men that openly defied his father over and over again even in simple situations. The other was Sir Myles and that was simply because he was older and nicer and Jonathon didn't dare find out what lie under that nice exterior.

"My questions have been answered already, My Lord," Gwen bowed to George and went back to polishing the empty tea service set that Roald have given her to fiddle with for the duration of the meeting.

"Can we expect more attacks then? I know there was a theory put out that this mercenary might not be the only one with this contract," Faleron asked.

"We can always expect more attacks. We're planning on abdicating in the next year or two and it's a prime moment to remove the heir to the throne," Jonathon sighed.

"I meant, your Majesty," Faleron bowed his head to Jonathon before turning back to George, "can Gwen expect more of this contract out on her life or do you believe it was more of a one-time attempt, hope for the best?"

"We don't know. So keep your guard up," George looked back to Gwen who nodded without looking up.

"Any other questions?" Myles rose and asked. Roald noticed there were more sheepish looks on the Captain of First Company and of Second Company as well as on Gary's faces. They had more they wanted to ask but they weren't about to. They were trying to spare Gwen from whatever they had to say or ask.

"Perhaps, Squire Gwen, you would show me that beautiful orange bow of yours? It's osage wood isn't it? That's the only wood I know that can be so beautifully orange." Evin Larse was standing and offering his hand to Gwen. If Roald could have hugged the man, he would have. Not only was he drawing Gwen away from the meeting but he was doing so in a way that interested her and made her smile.

"But the meeting…" she looked to Roald clearly playing the squire wanting his permission to leave. He smiled and nodded to the door.

"I'll find you after," Roald assured her. Before the door closed all of the way he could hear Evin start up a debate about why osage was such a perfect wood. "Now what couldn't be asked in front of my squire?" He twisted in his chair to look to both captains and his uncle Gary. There was another moment of uncomfortable silence before Gary decided to talk.

"Are we sure the girl is safe?" He started.

"Of course she's not safe! She had an assassin come after her and she's thrown herself in the way of two more for his Highness," Faleron growled. "She's a walking danger to herself."

"I meant," Gary clarified, "that are we sure she's safe to be his Highness's squire? That this isn't all some ploy to get us to trust her and then she does the assassination in the end? She's on friendly terms with Tusaine and she exchanges letters with the Prince of Tusaine often. Perhaps she's on his payroll?"

"She's received valuable 'gifts' from Tusaine. Doesn't that show she's on his payroll? She's a spy working for Tusaine." The Captain of First Company tossed out.

"Merrywood doesn't send us knights. Merrywood doesn't send much to court besides the odd lady or two each generation. They are a small isolated fief up sitting at the north of the Tusaine border. Why are we seeing an attempt at knighthood now? And a woman no less? And why wait two years before coming here?" The Captain of Second Company added.

"You've got to be kidding me," Faleron muttered just loud enough for Roald to hear him best and Neal on his other side.

"I understand your concerns," Jonathon stood. "The truth of the matter is I have had these concerns for a while as have our spymasters. We've had someone tailing Gwen since she became my son's squire and I can lay some concerns of yours to rest." Jonathon nodded to Myles who produced a rather large scroll from inside of his tunic.

"Lady Gwendolyn of Merrywood's history up to date as of yesterday," he explained. "Showed unusual talent with the bow early in life. Trained in other weapons by her fief weapon's master and by the men at arms that protect their fief from immortals. All Tortallan, all former soldiers or loyal citizens. Attended the Convent at ten. Made few friends, notably punished often for impoliteness to the sisters. Left the Convent after twelve when she was revived after rescuing a child from flood waters. Enrolled in page training immediately after returning home. Four years as a page, quiet. Very studious, spent free time doing archery, clearly her passion. Friendly with others but made little more than acquaintances with her year. Passed the Big Exams with ease, no knight offers. Jump forward a few months and she's serving at a ball and reportedly saw the archer over the Prince's shoulder, shoved him out of the way, and took the arrows for herself. Duke Baird wanted it noted the girl's life was nearly lost. At this point the Prince sought her out and asked her to be his squire." Myles paused and looked up.

"What I hear out of all of that, is this young woman has been surrounded by loyal Tortallans her whole life, had little to no contact that was notable with Tusaine, disliked the Convent, and did not seek the Prince out in anyway."

"When Gwen woke from those arrow wounds," Roald turned to look at Faleron. He had a feeling he hadn't heard whatever was coming. "Gwen was terrified. She swore up and down she saw Roald crack his head on the ground and she never saw him rise. She was convinced she had accidentally killed the heir and she was going to Traitor's Hill to die so why bother healing her up and why bother giving her teas and herbs to make her feel better. To me, she doesn't sound like a spy or assassin. She sounds like a woman who acted on impulse and honestly feared she had harmed Roald."

"This is new information," Myles nodded to Faleron. "It's after Lady Gwendolyn became his Highness's squire that we are more concerned with. She became quite close with Sir Nikolas one of the diplomats from Tusaine and noted friend of Prince Edric. She spent time alone in his room with him."

"Did we manage to get that conversation too?" Roald asked trying to keep the bite from his voice. Despite knowing for over a year that Gwen was being followed, he didn't like any of it and he had made that opinion known to his father and both spymasters.

"We actually did. Gwen reported to you, your Highness, that she had gone in good faith because he had asked for her as Lady Gwendolyn and not as Squire Gwen. She reported that after multiple attempts from him to try and get information on yourself, the affairs of Tortall, and on your plan on the Tusaine meetings that were taking place at that time, she berated him and left." Myles looked to Roald to confirm that much. "That was a nice way of putting it. She left that man kneeling on the floor begging for her forgiveness, and I mean left as in she walked away when he was kneeling down apologizing. She didn't lie about that meeting." He smiled at Roald. Roald already knew the rest of this report but he could see confusion growing in the faces of those that doubted her. "No other private meetings took place between her and anyone from Tusaine. She did try to meet once for dinner with Sir Nikolas only for him to snub her and leave her waiting for an hour. She spent the evening alone."

"What about the payments?" Gary demanded.

"Lady Gwen's accounts are remarkable," Myles grinned. "I believe she cried in frustration from the amount of value the Tusaine court was placing on her protection of Roald. Gwen's wealth sits unused for the most part, only being added to by investments she placed on the advice of Sir Nealan, Sir Faleron, and Lady Knight Keladry, all noted Tortallan citizens…" Myles looked up to see if there was any debate. "There was an addition to the 'gift' from Tusaine over Midwinter last year. Once again, it sits unused. She did authorize her family to withdraw from her accounts to make improvements to her… oh how did you put that… small isolated fief. It has been in need of repairs for some time."

"And her correspondence with the Tusaine Prince?" Raoul's barely concealed smile told Roald, and anyone else bothering to look, that Raoul already knew it would prove to be unlikely Gwen was a spy.

"After the apology for being snubbed by one of Tusaine's knights, and the additional gift from Tusaine… she's simply having academic debates with the man."

"Edric remains unmarried. Any chance this is his way of courting her? If he were to marry Gwen he could order her to give up her knowledge of the Tortallan Crown." Gary pressed.

"Fat chance she'd give in to an order," Alanna snorted. Her comment was ignored by the majority of the room but Roald and George both smiled and Roald suspected if Faleron wasn't starting to smoke, he'd have smiled too.

"Edric courts a Duchess from Maren. He has no romantic interest in Gwen," George announced. "Now, the point of all of this has been and is that the lass is by all accounts completely and utterly loyal to Roald. I told you that a month after you had us set someone on her, Jon."

"I know, but there have been pressures," Jonathon dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"With that answered in a way I'm sure puts all of your minds at ease," Myles turned to the three who had seemed the most sure that Gwen was a spy and assassin and met their eyes. "Perhaps you have more relevant questions?"

There were no more questions and the meeting ended. Roald waited until Faleron rose and tugged his arm. He could sense Faleron's almost nonexistent temper the moment it flared and it was good he had made it through the meeting without lashing out with it, but it needed to be diffused before Gwen came within 200 yards of him so she wouldn't know what exactly about this meeting had caused his anger. He pulled Faleron out into the hall and down to his suite of rooms. When the door was closed he pushed Faleron into a chair. "Go."

"They thought she did this to herself on purpose!" He shouted and then a moment later he was quiet again. "Well she did do it on purpose. You can't stop her from putting herself in danger when it's your life on the line. But that she created these situations to build your trust? And that she's a spy or assassin? Are they dense? She was twelve when she came to the palace and has barely left. And to set spies on her since she became your squire? Doesn't she deserve the benefit of the doubt?"

"No, I don't," Roald almost cursed when he turned to see Gwen in the door with Evin standing behind her. He had thought Evin would take Gwen to shoot her bow, not just to look it over in her room. "No one deserves the benefit of the doubt when the heir's life is on the line." She looked back at Evin and then smiled sweetly at Roald. "I kind of figured out I was under investigation when I saw the same person around me at my dawn practices in the courts and then again when I was running errands and then again in Corus…" she shrugged. "If he ever stops following me I'm going to start to miss him."

"I think you'll cope. You're no longer under investigation, so if you're going to send a note to Edric you might as well tell him now is the best time to recruit you," Roald grinned when Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Alright, I'll meet you on the courts Commander," Gwen turned and the bow on her back became visible as she left.

"I thought you were taking her to the practice courts," Roald whispered to Evin.

"I was. We got hung up looking at that armor you had made for her. We were just leaving when she heard Sir Court Bachelor yelling and she side tracked." Evin gave the vaguest nod to Faleron. "I couldn't have stopped her with a whole Rider group." With that Evin was gone, chasing after Gwen to see her in action.

"Nothing can stop that woman from telling me I'm wrong, it would seem," Faleron grumbled. Roald was surprised to realize that multiple times throughout the meeting and even now, Faleron refused to call Gwen a girl but referred to her as a woman always. Perhaps he didn't think of her as a child and that wasn't some hurdle to overcome.

"No, Fal, I doubt it was because she wanted to tell you that you were wrong. I think it's because she heard you yelling and wanted to fix it." Roald turned to walk towards the door. "She may have taken those arrows and that knife for me because I'm the heir and it's her duty. She'd do it for you just because you matter to her."

"You matter more than anyone else ever could. You're her knight master," Faleron was tinged slightly red as he said it. He had to know there was more going on beneath the surface. He also seemed to feel it was necessary to salve some sort of pride that Roald was supposed to have.

"You rank above archery," Roald let slip as he went out of the door. If Faleron knew Gwen at all he'd know exactly how high of a place he held in Gwen's mind. Gwen rarely said she loved anything in particular but archery she'd admit to loving all day long. He hoped it gave Faleron something to think about. The more he thought about Faleron and Gwen the more he wished it would just happen because the more he thought about the likelihood of Gwen surviving another attempt on his life with her protective instincts, the more he wanted her to enjoy herself in case it was her end. He would, of course, do everything within his power to keep her from that fate but he also knew Gwen would do whatever Gwen thought was right at decision time. And he already knew what Gwen thought was right.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Disclaimer hasn't been done in a while. Tortall and all recognizable characters, names, and events are property of the amazing Tamora Pierce.**

Gwen swore that after January she woke up one morning and it was May. If she thought hard she could remember bits and pieces of the last few months but they were only bits and pieces. The days had run together. Roald had spent much of that time locked away with his father and the Dominion Jewel. He was learning to control it and work spells with it and did not want her there in case some spell backfired. She understood that much and spent more and more time taking lessons from Faleron when he was available or working on training in the practice courts with anyone who came out.

Sometime in March she had asked Lord Raoul for a refresher in tilting and had learned what regret physically felt like. She had flown over the frost hardened mud and had landed flat on her back enough to believe the air would never find a way back into her lungs. The men of the Own watching had taken pity on her and had someone care for Rue while she had worked on sitting up.

In April, she experienced her first alcoholic drink with Roald and Faleron. Sir Faleron had been gifted wine from one of the ladies and Roald couldn't drink it wanting to avoid issues with his Gift so he had given his glass to Gwen in honor of her birthday that had just passed. It was good wine, from the Masbolle vineyards so she knew it was one of the best by name alone. She was quick to realize she didn't care for the taste the way Faleron seemed to but she didn't want to snub him by leaving the glass full so she drank all of it. The one glass had briefly made her giggly and warm and then it had turned her stomach and had left her ill for most of the night. She hadn't admitted to Faleron that it was the wine that had made her look so pale and drawn the next morning but she suspected he knew because wine didn't find its way back to their evening gatherings anymore.

But now it was May and they were facing the planning of the upcoming Midsummer Ball again. Roald was bound and determined she was to wear a gown and attend as a guest and not as a squire serving. He had argued it was for her safety as they would likely target her first due to previous failed attempts. She was almost unrecognizable as a lady so that would be how she would best serve Roald. She had spent the previous evening arguing and now she was sitting in her bedroom with three dress forms pulled out of her closet with gowns on them and jewels draped over each of them to determine which outfit she'd wear. She had already spent an hour matching jewels to the dresses, now she had to pick one and she didn't want to.

She didn't want to attend as a lady, as a guest. As a lady and a guest she was expected to dance with anyone who asked it of her. And she would be unescorted which made that far more likely. If anyone did recognize her as Roald's squire, it was likely there would be some ridicule for being so whishywashy on the whole matter of being a lady or not. Why did she have to pick one? And would Roald's friends mock her for fussing over these things if they found out? She had already spent too much time fussing and she didn't even know why. No, she did know why, as much as she hated to admit it there were teachings from the Convent that had stuck. She was attending a ball and she needed to have her details in order so she could prepare perfectly in as little time as possibly on the day of the ball.

"Gwen?" She heard her bedroom door open and bit her lip to keep the curses from escaping. Of all of the people to see her fussing like a lady, it had to be Faleron. "I called from the sitting room but you didn't answer." He explained and then she heard his footsteps stop dead and the sharp intake of breath giving her a hint that he was surprised by what he was seeing.

"His Highness really wants me to attend the ball as a lady. I don't know when I'll have a free moment again so I'm getting the details sorted," she tried to explain. It still looked bad. If she truly didn't like fuss she would have already picked a gown and the jewels and it would have been quick and easy.

"These are the gowns that you had made for you from that Tusaine cloth?" Faleron stepped into her view and circled one of the gowns looking it over. He didn't wait for confirmation. "These are beautiful. Are you having a hard time picking? I suppose if you attended more things that required gowns you'd have an easier time. But since this is the first time in two years I've seen you have an occasion for a ball gown," Faleron trailed off and Gwen was staring at him like he was a god. Of course he would walk right in and take her fears that she was fussing unnecessarily and crush them with kindness. He was always doing things like that and part of her hated him for it. It was hard to remember she was not even a consideration in his mind when he went out of his way to soothe her petty fears.

"I just don't know which one. I'm getting close to closing my eyes, spinning around, and pointing and random," she sighed and stood.

"Here, I can help," he pulled her over and made her close her eyes. For a second she thought he would spin her around instead she heard his voice very quiet next to her ear. "Which gown is first in your mind right now? Which one is the first one you think of when you think you want to wear one?"

"The blue one." Gwen knew it instantly and now she recognized she would have regretted not picking it if she had gone with another.

"You were just over thinking," Faleron said stepped back from her. "So it's this one. With the pearls, I see," she opened her eyes to see Faleron examining the pearl necklace and earrings she had picked out to accompany the dark blue silk gown.

"So since you came and helped me through my dilemma, what can I help you with? You were looking for me for some reason." She reminded him as she went to move the other dresses and jewels back into the closet. The ball was still three weeks away but she'd leave the gown and pearls sitting out the whole time.

"Actually, it's about the ball." Faleron sat down on her vanity stool while she finished putting things away. "I need a favor, Gwen. A big favor. Likely you'll tell me 'no' and you certainly can tell me 'no'." He was rambling and Sir Faleron of King's Reach almost never rambled.

"You know I'd do anything for you," she hadn't meant for it to sound so clingy when she had thought it up but it came out of her mouth and she saw Faleron flinch slightly.

"I know, but really I want you to think this over fully before you answer." He drew in a deep breath. "I told my mother that I had a lady I was interested in but I was moving slow with her. That's all fine and wonderful, it made her back off. But now that I don't have a mandated list, I'm expected to have a lady to escort to this damned ball and I don't want to bring any of the ladies that would jump at the idea to seize me now that I'm supposedly free."

"Why don't you bring this lady you're interested in?" Gwen tried to push aside the sinking feeling in her stomach. There had been less and less women around Faleron lately and she wondered if he had indeed started to make a real choice. Now he had confirmed there was one he was really interested in and if he was moving slow she must be one that was smart and someone deserving, not one of the ladies who threw themselves at him.

"The thing is, I haven't told her I'm interested in her yet. She's a lady I have to approach and you know, I've gotten used to ladies approaching me so I've forgotten the best way to go about this." She hated seeing Faleron looking so at a loss.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Gwen couldn't think of any reason why she would be the person he'd turn to. Roald would be the best one to approach as he was his best friend and the heir to the throne. It looked more impressive. But perhaps he needed a female to do some talking? She could certainly tell whoever it was his good qualities.

"No, I'll talk to her about it when I find the right time." He let out a shaky laugh. "This is already going off track." He sighed and looked up at her for a moment. There was a slight blush on his cheeks and she wondered where exactly this was going. "I'd better just ask and get it out there before I allow you distract me again. Gwen, I need a lady to escort to the ball and I want it to be you."

"What?" Gwen stared openly at Faleron. He was asking to escort her to the ball and it was supposed to be her favor to him. It almost seemed more like he was doing a favor for her in her mind. And he believed she could physically come up with the word 'no' at a time like this? Roald had been hinting he knew about her crush and she thought if she had been that obvious that Roald who had no time to notice had noticed, then Faleron who spent so much time with her had noticed.

"I know, just listen to my pitch first. We both want to watch Roald and make sure he's safe. If both of us go alone or with other partners we will be more easily distracted. I have no doubts that you'll spend most of your night in the arms of many men once they see how beautiful you are. And you know what it's like for me during these things and could you imagine what it would be like if I went alone?" He shuddered.

"So this is a business arrangement," she felt reality settle back in like Lord Raoul's lance to her gut but she still managed a smile. It did solve her problem of keeping an eye on Roald.

"Somewhat," Faleron stood and moved to take her hands in his. "If you have a lover, or a sweetheart, or even a crush on someone and you want to approach them or you have hope they'll approach you, you can forget this whole thing." She tried to think of an answer that was witty and quick but failed miserably as her mind involuntarily focused in on his hands wrapped around hers. She sincerely hoped he didn't notice how her mind turned to mush when he touched her. He would likely lose respect for her.

"I don't have a lover or sweetheart," she said finally. "Remember, the last man to take interest snubbed me for wearing breeches."

"That was a year and a half ago," Faleron's frown was etched in his face making lines appear around her mouth.

"And I haven't changed so you can see how men line up for that." She managed to work her hands out of his which helped clear her head a little. "As for a crush… I don't think he'll notice I'm there as a lady anyway," she knew it was true. If she attended with him, he'd treat her like Squire Gwen undercover trying to protect the Prince. And announcing she did have a crush made her normal, she knew that. What eighteen year old woman didn't have crushes, especially when they were unattached romantically? But Faleron still needed an answer "I'd love to do this favor for you." She managed to keep the excitement from her voice easily because she knew she wasn't the one he wanted to take and this was business, not pleasure. "And, of course, you're right. I had just been thinking about the social obligations if I went unescorted. Not that I expect there would be anyone interested…" why was Faleron smiling so? She swore his face had lit up. Was it because she had said he was right? He seemed convinced she was always out to tell him he was wrong about things ever since she had told him it wasn't his fault she had scars.

"Perfect," he told her. Instantly he grabbed for her hands again and brought them up to his lips to kiss her fingertips. "We'll make it our plan. I'll come get you before the ball and we'll walk together." She could hear in his voice and could see by the look on his face that he was excited. Perhaps it would be the first time he attended a ball without a real lady and he was looking forward to it. It would be her first ball where she wasn't going as a squire. Some part of her was disappointed it had been forced on her and she was attending as a social guard rather than as someone's lady. But if she made Faleron this happy by being his social guard, she'd take it.

"You know," she glanced at the gown. "Following lady protocol, I'm going to have to pick a different gown. You've already seen this one," she grinned when he rolled his eyes.

"I haven't seen it on you. That's the impressive part. Just don't go parading around in it and we'll be fine," he teased back. "Well I'm glad that's sorted. Have you eaten midday yet?" He offered his arm to her and she took it. Despite the kiss to the hand and the invitation to the ball, this was the Sir Faleron she knew. Always looking after her when Roald was locked away with his father. "I'm curious, what method do you think they may try this time?"

"Three Midsummers in a row? My hope is they decide Midsummer is not a good time for them anymore," Gwen let him lead her out.

Later that night Gwen sat alone with Roald in his study. It was rare for it to be just the two of them and it was rarer still that he didn't have slates for her to work on calculations or at least something for her to be working on. Instead he looked a little disheveled from his day with his father and she guessed that perhaps one spell had backfired.

"We set a date for the coronation. For my father to abdicate and for my coronation," Roald announced suddenly. "October 5th. This year," he sighed. "My father wanted to do it sooner. But I pushed him back until after Shinko has recovered from childbirth."

"So after Midsummer we are moving on to planning a coronation." Gwen stood to hug Roald to congratulate him.

"After Midsummer you are going with Faleron on border patrol again," was the response she got.

"But, with the coronation so close… there's so much planning. You'll be so busy. You'll need another pair of hands. There's still a chance of assassination attempts," Roald put a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"You'll be back in August and then I plan to throw you into the thick of it," Roald assured her. "Just because I'm becoming King doesn't mean that I'm forgetting my duty to ensure you have a proper squire's education. Field work comes from the field, not from running my errands at the palace. Faleron has already agreed to take you with again." Roald threw himself down into one of the chairs and indicated Gwen should take one across from him. "While you are gone I need to get things in order that doesn't require you to help, like setting up my council and filling positions around the palace." He stopped talking and smiled at her. "I'm glad I asked you to attend this ball as a lady. My father is already detailing who will be watching me all night since we are making the official announcement then and he asked if there was some place I could stick you where you wouldn't be a danger to yourself."

"I can still be a danger to myself in a gown. Ladies don't become incapable because they were wearing dresses," Gwen bit her lip to stop herself from making a comment about the Convent making women incapable.

"I didn't mean that. I just figured you'd have fun and not worry about me. Have you thought about maybe asking Fal to dance?" He was teasing her now and she mock glared at him for his question and figured she'd punish him just a little.

"Actually, socially I suppose we will have to dance at least once. He asked me to allow him to escort me to the ball just today." She looked up to see Roald smiling rather than looking surprised. "What?"

"I had hoped he would see that he likes you at some point." It was her turn to stare and then blush.

"I don't think you understand. He doesn't 'like' me. He asked me to go with him so neither of us would be trapped by anyone else so we can keep a better idea on you." She bit her lip when she realized Roald was still smiling. "He found the woman he wants, Highness. He even wrote his mother. He said he just needs to find the right time to talk to her and he's working on it slowly. He only asked me because he knows I won't think anything by it." When she looked up Roald was no longer giving her that smile. Instead he was frowning slightly.

"Do you want me to forbid it, him taking you to the ball? I can do that," he asked finally. "I'll take the blame for breaking this up. You'll still look like you meant to help him."

"No, it's okay. I'll get along. When am I leaving for border patrol with him?"

"Two days after Midsummer. That will allow for any delays in returns." Gwen understood he was referring to the last outing. She rolled her eyes at him. "Now we should get these plans for the Midsummer Ball figured out so we can start working on this coronation."

"Yes Sir," she went to his desk and pulled out the papers they required so they could get to work.

**A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone that has stuck with me and is reviewing, following, and favoriting this story. I really appreciate your comments. As an added note, I write straight through a chapter and usually do not edit chapters after the fact for grammar, accidental wrong words, or misspellings that I do not pick up during writing. I apologize if any grammatical errors or word errors upset you. **


	27. Chapter 27

Gwen frowned at her reflection in the mirror one last time. She was a lady. Her hair had been curled and left down under a circlet of silver leaves that had come out of the Tusaine jewels. Her face had been painted appropriately for a ball though she swore she had caked enough on her face that she'd be wearing facepaint until she returned from border patrol. Her gown had a full bodice in dark blue silk with silver vines done in embroidery decorating it. Her skirt swept out and was held up by layers of cloth rather than the old fashioned wooden hoops some ladies still chose to wear. The bodice itself was tight enough to hold all of it on her body but there were straps that were designed to sit on the edge of her shoulder and connected to the gown just under her collarbones and shoulder blades. It had been fashionable when the gowns had been made but was likely no longer in style as it had been over a year. The shoes that would barely be seen were blue silk pumps that lifted her and her skirts clear of the ground. The space between her chin and the exposed curve of her breasts was occupied by a string of pearls with a sapphire pendant hanging on it. Her earbobs were silver wire shaped into leaves with pearls at the clasps. All she was missing were the elbow length gloves that were white silk and were sitting on the bed. With a sigh she turned to put them on and covered her poison charm bracelet with the silk. Sir Faleron would be arriving in fifteen minutes and she wanted to be completely ready.

There were no excuses not to be ready. Roald had given her the entire day off telling her to take some time and pamper herself. So after a little bit of archery she had given in and had gone to 'pamper' herself and started the long ritual of getting ready for the ball. There was a noise by the front door and she frowned. She knew he would likely let himself in since he had a key but he was early. It was a good thing she was as ready as she was ever going to be. She heard the handle move as she stepped into her study. The door opened and immediately she heard a loud noise emit that almost deafened her completely. It was another moment before she realized that it meant the person in the room was in intruder. In her gown she had several knives hidden but she wasn't going to be much good against with her movements restricted by a gown. She threw her study door shut and locked it and then ran back to the bedroom and did the same thing. She had more weapons in her bedroom and it gave her time for backup to arrive. She ran to her weapons rack and yanked her bow down. Whatever made it to her room would hopefully stop before it got to her.

The second alarm sounded as she heard an explosion in her study. She hurried to string her bow properly, ripped off the glove on her guiding hand with her teeth, and just managed to get a hold of a special arrow when she heard motion on the other side of the door. She leveled her bow and waited. If the arrow missed, her sword was in an easy place to grab. The handle of her door wiggled for a moment and then it blasted open and the alarm sounded. She shot one arrow and then grabbed another. She heard a grunt as she hit. Another arrow was ready to go but the attacker was no longer standing.

"Gwen!?" She heard someone yell from the door. There was a smoky haze in the air and she guessed that her study door looked like her bedroom door: a charred hole in the wall. Whoever her attacker was, he had magic either his own or bought to help him through the barriers. Too bad it didn't stop arrows and it certainly didn't stop the alarms from alerting the entire wing that there was something happening.

"Gwen?" She heard the voice closer but refused to look up from the man lying on the floor moaning in pain. Her bow was still raised and if he showed signs of getting up, she'd shoot him again. "Gwen, are you okay?" She heard the question.

"I'm fine," she inched forward to look down at the man. There were more footsteps now. More voices of concern. Her eyes were still locked on the attacker. He shifted slightly and she let the arrow fly to hit him in the chest. Instantly she grabbed for another arrow. She could see booted feet edging around the body on the floor and then green light enveloped the body and she slowly lowered her bow.

"What did you shoot him with?" She heard Faleron's reasonable voice in her ear as the bow was removed from her hands.

"Arrows I made. They have padded, blunt tips to incapacitate rather than kill," she turned to look at Faleron who held her bow. He was dressed for the ball in a silver silk shirt and blue silk tunic a few shades lighter than her gown. "I made them in case I had the choice to leave an attacker for questioning." She looked up to see who else had responded to the alarm. Neal stood over the attacker maintaining his spell while his father prodded where she had hit with his own Gift. Behind them stood Captain Domitan of Masbolle dressed in his parade uniform and armor and several guards.

"I suppose we'll be a little late to the ball," Faleron told her as he unstrung her bow and set it back on the rack. He fished her glove up from the ground and went through the effort of putting it back on for her.

"I suppose we'll have to renew the alarms," Neal admitted. "As soon as we get you some doors."

"How does the front door look?" Gwen asked. "I didn't hear him blast it, just the alarm."

"Intact. Likely he lost the time for fineness when the alarms went off," Baird informed her. "Come sit by me," he side stepped around the body and took her to sit on the bed while he examined her. "Perfectly fine, my dear. I've heard that your instincts serve Prince Roald well, but they also seem to serve you well."

Gwen waited as guards removed the attacker and then answered a hundred or so questions about what her version of the events were before they were allowed to leave. The others had left as soon as more guards arrived in order to be present when the announcement of Roald's coronation was made. Now Faleron led her down the hallway to the ballroom where she was certain that Roald had had something happen already. If they had targeted her before the ball was scheduled to start, they likely had someone ready for him. But when they entered the room she could see he was perfectly fine chatting with Numair and Raoul.

"Are you okay?" Faleron asked again, stopping her just inside of the door. "If you would prefer to lay low for the evening, you can use my rooms. I understand, Roald would understand."

"No, I want to be here," Gwen assured him.

"Then let me get you something to drink," he squeezed her arm and then turned to go locate one of the squires. She was supposed to be amongst them, carrying a tray, and serving. If she had been attending as a squire she wouldn't have been in her rooms when the attack came. Faleron returned with a cup of juice. "It has alcohol in it so there's only a little," he told her when she sipped at it. "I thought it would help you relax." She nodded and continued to sip at it. "Let's go say hello to Roald. Someone will have told him why we were late and he'll want to see you're alive and well for himself."

Roald looked her over when they walked up. "You look amazing," he informed her. "You should teach classes at the Convent about keeping every hair in place while taking down an assassin."

"If we weren't in public I'd throw something at you," Gwen told him, happy he could keep a sense of humor. "Whoever it was knew I was going to be in my rooms. They knew I hadn't come down as a squire to serve."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight, I expect that you dance and enjoy yourself," he nodded to a young lord who was approaching while looking at Gwen. When she turned he bowed to her and asked for a dance. Socially, even with an escort, she was obligated to go. Faleron took the cup from her and she swept a curtsey before allowing the man to take her to dance. By the time she had finished that dance, another lord had asked for a dance and she could feel the 'I told you so' coming from Faleron that was liable to come whenever she could break away. Two lords later, the next lord was stopped by a polite hand on the shoulder.

"I believe as her escort I should dance with her at least once," Faleron explained to the man. The lord stepped away as Faleron's hand settled on her waist and took the other hand in his. "You don't look happy on the dance floor being whisked from admiring man to admiring man."

"Perhaps, because I'm a squire with no idea how to behave as a lady, I can refuse them before they even ask?"

"You do that by having an attentive and very visible escort," Faleron informed her, stepping in and closing the little space between them. "Didn't they teach you that in the Convent?"

"They teach that sort of thing to the girls about the head to Court," Gwen hoped the thick layer of facepaint coating her cheeks kept her blush from being visible. "I shall have to remember that for the next ball I get ordered to attend."

"I know we talked about this being about guarding Roald," Faleron told her as they followed the steps a little less and more just stood together on the dancefloor. "But he's fine. He has guards all around. It is my pleasure to be the most attentive escort you'll ever have." He took the hand he held from dancing and kissed it.

Gwen was certain that somewhere there was a lady in the room watching and cursing her. It must have looked romantic. It certainly felt romantic but she also knew he was being protective. She had just been through an attack, albeit a short one. Faleron was nearly as protective of her as Roald was. It was likely Roald wasn't being protective because Faleron was already on it.

"Your lady, whoever she turns out to be when you finally approach her, is a lucky woman," Gwen breathed out when she looked up to see his gaze on her. Instantly she regretted opening her mouth at all. She just as well told him she had a crush on him and she could see recognition light in Faleron's dark eyes.

"We don't seem to be dancing anymore; shall we step off of the dancefloor?" Faleron stepped back enough to move an arm around her waist and steer her over to one of the tables that lined the dancefloor. He moved the chairs so he could sit with an arm around her as they watched the dancers and Roald just beyond that. "Tell me about Merrywood. I know you said your parents are doing some much needed repairs but beyond that I know little of the fief."

So Gwen started to talk about Merrywood while Faleron flagged down a squire and set another cup down in front of her. He kept her there for nearly an hour with a cup in front of her as they chatted. When Gwen finished talking about Merrywood, she pestered Faleron for his take on King's Reach. When he didn't want to say anything more about King's Reach, he took her back onto the dancefloor. They danced twice before a hand on Faleron's arm made them both turn.

"Perhaps I could cut in?" It was Roald, smiling at them. "I promise I'll return her only to you." Faleron raised his hands in defeat and let Roald take his place.

"Since when do you dance at these things?" Gwen asked when Faleron was gone. The past two years of balls she had never seen Roald dance.

"I dance with Shinko when she's not laid up with pregnancy. We've timed things so she doesn't get to attend these often it seems," Roald informed her. "I have some information for you."

"Oh?"

"You won't be able to return to your rooms tonight. I don't want you back there until the doors are replaced and the spells are back in place and George would like to place an agent in there tonight."

"And where will I be staying?" Gwen asked. "And am I going to be stuck in this gown until I'm allowed back in to my rooms?"

"Faleron offered his rooms for you to share until you two leave. And I had George gather up the things you'll need for tonight and for border patrol. He's very accustomed after dealing with Alanna for so many years." Roald sighed. "If you don't want a pallet in Faleron's rooms, you can have a pallet in mine but I have children that don't respect boundaries." Gwen had dealt with Roald's children only a few times but she did understand. "And I think Faleron would prefer you with him. He seems very… fixed… on you tonight."

"He's being protective," she informed her knight master.

"He's enjoying being protective very much then," Roald smiled at her. "You're beautiful and he'd be a fool to let you walk away tonight. Now let me return you to him so I'm not made a liar."

"Best way to deal with these two birds is one blade," Gwen heard someone say behind them. She felt Roald turn slightly and she knew he had heard as well. "It's so easy when they stand together like this." Gwen saw Faleron walking towards them because they had finished dancing and she shifted her hold on Roald's arm. The footsteps came up behind them and she shoved Roald into Faleron while she turned to face whoever it was. The man that stood closest had a thin blade in one hand. She recognized an assassin's blade. It was small and sharp and meant to piece the body quickly with the most minimal invasion. If he had hit a heart or lung or her intestines from behind she would have died or Roald would have died. Before she could process the best way to deal with him, he was surrounded by guards that seemed to materialize out of the crowd.

"Nice to know you don't have to do everything," Faleron's arms closed around her waist. "That is, I'm glad you don't." He turned her to face him. Roald was already assuring those attending the ball as guests that everything was fine and to carry on. "Perhaps we should go now. I don't think I'll be able to make you forget again." She expected him to take her arm but instead he put his arm around her waist and pulled her in close against him as they left the ballroom and steered her back to his rooms. He settled her on a couch and then draped a blanket over her shoulders before announcing he would make tea. When tea was made he settled in next to her on the couch.

"You don't have to be this protective of me. I'm okay," she told him.

"I know you're okay," he told her. "You know, this afternoon as I got ready, I thought my biggest concern tonight would be trying to find a way to tell this amazing woman that I want her." She really wished he wouldn't bring such things up when he was sitting so close. She couldn't even fantasize for a moment.

"Whoever it is, you probably don't have to work too hard to tell her," Gwen sipped at her tea. She found the cup plucked from her hands. "What? Did you poison it?"

"No. I just want you to look at me. My biggest concern tonight turned out to be the lady I enjoy spending time with no longer be alive for me to tell." He cupped her cheek and she stared up at him. She can't have heard right. There was no way she had heard right. Perhaps he was drunk. What had he been drinking all night? Perhaps it was wine. She hadn't been paying attention to his drink. Then his lips were on hers and she realized he wasn't drunk in the slightest. She couldn't even taste a hint of alcohol on his breath. And then she realized she was kissing back and his arms were wrapping around her back to pull her closer. Perhaps she had died to the assassin earlier and this was all the Black God making her happy before she finally joined him. But this felt so real.

"Can I take this as you want this too?" Faleron asked breaking apart from her. Questions? Did she even know how to speak anymore? But Faleron saved her having to answer as his lips found hers again. One hand moved up through her hair to take hold of the circlet and pull it off as he pushed her sideways down lay back against the couch.

"Fal," she had never been given permission to use his nickname but it was all she could get out as his lips barely left hers. He stopped and looked down at her a grin lighting his face. "I do like you and this is certainly nice but is it appropriate? I mean, as Roald's squire…"

"He's been dropping hints that I should be courting you since before Midwinter. He also knows I planned to talk to you tonight." Faleron moved back off of her so she could sit up but he didn't let her go far. His arms went back around her and she found herself neatly tucked against him.

"But with the border patrol coming up," Gwen was trying to find a delicate way of saying it seemed inappropriate for them to have a relationship of any kind other than as mentor and student when they were required to do such things together.

"Roald mentioned that tonight, when you were taken away for dancing with your suitors," Faleron told her. "He said you might have some moral objections. He also thought you might have some moral objections to staying here tonight and tomorrow night. I only have the most noble of intentions. This won't change that I'm your teacher on border patrol and I won't be crossing any lines you don't want me to."

"Speaking of the sleeping arrangements tonight, I don't see a pallet," she looked around and noticed her saddlebags were in the sitting room but no indication of a sleeping place.

"It's in my study and it's where I'll be sleeping. You're taking the bed," he leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"But…"

"But nothing. You crossed the line into these rooms so now you aren't Roald's squire, you're my lady. And I'm not putting my lady on a pallet when the bed is far more comfortable and when my lady works herself to death and could use a comfortable night of sleep."

"Are you saying my bed isn't comfortable?" Gwen demanded.

"I've sat on it before. I've slept on ground that's softer," he kissed her nose. "I doubt Roald realized he was giving you a terrible bed and you won't complain. But I'll complain for you after you admit my bed is better."

"We're going to have to establish ground rules," Gwen sighed.

"We have the entire ride to the border to talk about ground rules. But I'm making one set of rules very clear right now. In these rooms, you are my lady. This is a duty free zone and you will not 'Sir' me or rank me above you."

"What about if Roald is in here?" She asked trying to be difficult.

"I'll inform him of the rules too." He moved back to kissing her lips. "Let me know when you are tired because after hearing those alarms going off earlier today, I could keep you right here all night."


	28. Chapter 28

Gwen threw herself over once more in the bed. It was like sleeping on a wooden bench. And the covers were like sandpaper and burlap mixed together. Did she remember it being like this last year? They had arrived at Fort Drell only several hours before and she had promptly been shown to her room. It was the same as last year. A small room only large enough for her belongings and a narrow bed. Perhaps Faleron was right about her bed at home and she was just used to sleeping on a hard surface. Except now she had actually enjoyed a very nice and soft bed and now she thought it was utterly ridiculous that she was uncomfortable after just two nights in it. She had had the same problem the night before at the wayhouse. Army issue beds and blankets were made to be practical, not for comfort. And now she was hot and itchy. It was just coming into July and July was a hot month. Perhaps if she could get outside she'd cool off a little and eventually exhaust herself enough to sleep.

She ripped off the covers and sat up. There was no need to change because she had learned it was easier to sleep in her breeches and shirt when in a fort full of men than in a night shirt. She was always ready in a moment's notice if she needed to be. She pulled on her boots and opened the door. Already she felt the cooler air in the hall and realized her room was just stuffy in general. There were no windows. She had an interior room so she supposed she would have enjoyed the room in winter but summer made it terrible. Had last year been cooler? She couldn't remember being that hot and uncomfortable. There were candles lit in the main officers' sitting area as she walked down the hall and voices.

"So is it true you are courting Squire Gwendolyn?" That was the commander of the fort.

"Does anything get past you out here?" Faleron laughed. "Can you blame me?"

"Not in the least after last summer," the commander laughed. "Speaking of last summer, there's been a lot of movement around here lately. Some bandits mostly and some immortals. If you want to put your lady on lead again you might want to pair her with a sergeant."

"Thanks for the warning. Any idea why we're seeing an upswing in activity out here?" Faleron asked.

"No idea but it's keeping my men on their toes."

"Gwen?" Faleron was sitting in the lounge without his tunic, his shirt untied, and a cup in one hand. She hadn't even made it to the door that looked into the room when he had called her name but she wasn't surprised he knew it was her. There were few people that slept in the command house. "You're supposed to be getting rest."

"I just needed some fresh air," she tugged at her shirt that was sticking to her chest and stomach.

"It's a hot one this year. I suppose they didn't give you one of the rooms with a window either," the commander stood to face her. "I'll have that fixed in the morning. I'll see you both in the morning." He turned and left.

"So rumor of our courtship has come all the way to the Tusaine border," Gwen leaned against the doorframe.

"So I hear. Army men are gossips," Faleron stood and drained his cup. By the look of it, it was simply water. "Going outside?"

"I was thinking about it. I figured it would be cooler out there." She smiled up at him as he walked over to her.

"That only fixes your problem temporarily. My room has a window. A nice one that opens to the outside world. There's a nice breeze that comes in that way," he stopped to cup her face. "Perhaps you might want to see it."

"You're so subtle," she told him. "Well lead the way to this magical window." She grinned. Since he had first kissed her she had begun to feel like she was dreaming whenever they were together. The room in which Faleron slept during these patrols was larger than hers, likely an officer's quarters. The bed was a double and there was a desk and indeed not just one window but two. Both were open bringing in a nice breeze. When the door closed Faleron brought her into the circle of his arms for a kiss. She gave in briefly before pushing him back. "These are not your rooms at the palace."

"Where ever I make my room is a safe place," he told her finally. "I'll make the amendment to the written rules when it's light out. Get to bed. You need sleep so I don't look like a terrible task master."

"Well, thank you for letting me bask in the breeze of your magical windows for a few moments," she turned to leave. "Good night, Fal." Before she made it to the door Faleron had caught up to her and had lifted her off of the ground. She didn't fight him simply because she didn't want to make noise and draw attention to them. He deposited her on the bed.

"I meant this bed," he told her. "I'm not sending you back to sleep in a crucible."

"But where will you sleep?" She asked as he tugged at her boots for her.

"Right here," Faleron pulled off his shirt and kicked off his own boots to sit on the bed next to her. "Scooch over." She shifted over to the other side of the bed and made a show of staring at his shirtless chest. "You could remove your shirt too and give me something to look at."

"We're not there yet," she told him honestly.

He smiled at her and pushed her back to lie down on the bed and then he pulled her up against him. "Can we be here though?" He asked pulling the blanket over them.

"We can be here," she confirmed. It was the same hard bed, the same scratchy blanket, but with Faleron there with her, she couldn't help but relax enough to fall asleep. In the morning she woke at dawn with Faleron's arms still around her. She shifted attempting to slip out of the bed without waking him. She got as far as the end of the bed before Faleron's arm tightened around her and drug her back to him.

"I don't think we're going to be able to do this again after the commander gets you your own windowed room. Can't you just stay and let me enjoy this?" He demanded.

"But I exercise at dawn every day," she told him.

"Not when you were sleeping in my bed at the palace," came the reminder. "Please, Gwen." He nuzzled her ear and her neck. She stopped fighting him and let him drag her back into the curve of his body. He would eventually have to let her go because they both had work to do.

By noon they were both armed, mounted, and riding out with separate squads on patrols going in different directions. It had been Faleron's idea that she be assigned to a squad rather than follow him all of the time. She knew it was his way of making sure that gossip about them having any unprofessionalness in their relationship minimized. The gossip had already reached the soldiers of the fort and Gwen was certain it had probably already reached Aurelia in Merrywood. She was certain a letter was already on its way to her about how she had stolen Aurelia's man. She didn't need gossip that Faleron was failing to properly teach her due to being distracted or that neither of them were able to keep their heads because the other was in danger. It was best if they went on their own patrols. And Faleron had requested the squad she had fought with the year before. Of the nine men she had fought with, three had died that day and the sergeant had not been present. Now there were three new members and the sergeant was a nice man in his thirties that treated her as able as the rest of his men.

Her squad was given a very specific track to follow. They would do the same track each day at the same time as part of the changes that had been made since the last year. Each squad at the fort made daily rounds so that they became familiar with their specific landscape. The paths and times overlapped so that each squad was always within calling distance of another squad or the fort. Their specific track went down to the Drell and followed it along the water line south five miles and then rounded back again. When they reached their halfway point, another squad was starting the patrol on the same path. When they passed each other they would exchange whatever information they had about their patrol thus far. The same would happen with the patrol ahead of them. Overall the whole patrol took four hours to do thoroughly. By the time they came back from their slow ride down and back up the river, her belongings had been moved to a windowed room on the opposite end of the command house from Faleron and she now had her own desk and double bed and Faleron had been completely correct that they had absolutely no reason for them to share a bed anymore while they were on patrol.

Her squad was a tight knit group that ate together at every meal and exercised together each morning. Wanting to work better with them, Gwen started joining them for all of her meals and after her dawn jog. At first she was a little concerned that Faleron would be upset or hurt that she wasn't spending her meals with him or seeking him out to join her for her morning routine but Faleron was doing the same things with his squad to build rapport with them. He sought her out after the second day to make sure she knew he wasn't avoiding her and why he was doing what he was doing. On Faleron's advice, Gwen asked the men of her squad for stories and lessons. They were happy to adopt her into their ranks and teach her the ins and outs of patrols. She learned an extended version of military horn calls and hand signals from the version she had learned as a page. She learned how to tell the marks of different immortals and the length of time since the immortal had left them. She learned bawdy songs, curse words that would curdle milk, and gambling games that won her a few coins and respect from the men she played against. She enjoyed three full weeks of routine, lessons, and patrols that never came across anything out of the ordinary. Faleron's squad came across plenty as their patrol ran the longest route on the other side of the fort. Each time she heard their squad had come across bandits or immortals, she felt a small bit of panic in her chest. But Faleron always rode in at the front of his squad only looking a little worse for wear. He always found a moment before bed to come find her and let her soothe her fears.

On the first day of their forth week on the border her squad saw its first action since she had joined them at their furthest point away from the fort. They were join making their turn at a copse of trees when thirty armed men on horses materialized out of the trees. In the split second before they descended on the vastly outnumbered squad, Gwen heard the sergeant mutter that these couldn't be bandits to their hornman. And he was right. These men were mounted on sturdy looking mounts and were wearing decent armor, with decent weapons, and they all wore a uniform with matching insignias. The hornman blew out the series that gave their location and the number of men they faced. If anyone was in the immediate area, they would break their patrols and come running to assist. The men from the fort would be assembling to come and help. But they would have to hold out as long as possible for help to arrive. The sergeant waved her to his side. They had no time to limit their numbers from afar as the men-at-arms surged forward into them. Gwen drew her sword and met their charge with the others. They were quickly overwhelmed and she could hear the terrible sound of the men she fought with grunting and moaning as they were hit. She tried to stay close to the sergeant so they could watch each other's sides but Rue broke rank to try and bite at a man that had been dismounted and carried her forward into the enemy.

"Gwen!" She heard the sergeant shout warning and then something hard collided with her helm hard enough to make her see stars. She pitched forward and she felt an armored arm wrap around her waist. She was helped over the edge of her saddle into the saddle of one of the enemy. Her helm was ripped off and the next hit to her head left her in darkness.

Faleron paced in front of commander of Fort Drell and the sergeant he had entrusted Gwen to like a hungry lion. "Again!" he demanded he saw the sergeant flinch and all nine men behind him appear even more ashamed. His squad had just ridden in to find the squad Gwen had been riding with standing before the commander holding Gwen's mount and helm. He had heard the report once and now he needed to hear it again to make sure he hadn't missed any details.

"We were ambushed by thirty mounted soldiers at the halfway point. We called for help and then they engaged. We were all fighting and I tried to keep Squire Gwen with me but her horse went after someone and she was pulled into the heart of it. I tried to get to her but I was blocked. I called warning but she was clubbed in the back of the head. She was pulled from her mount onto her attackers mount and they removed her helm and clubbed her in the head. They disengaged and all left." The sergeant frowned. "They targeted Gwen. Once they had her, they wanted nothing to do with us. When we took inventory of ourselves we found that no one was killed and anyone hurt was knocked out and nothing more."

"Where did they go?" Faleron demanded. "North, South, West, East?" He rounded on the sergeant. This was information he needed to hear that hadn't been reported.

"Across the river. They were heading towards Tusaine," the sergeant showed a piece of cloth he had managed to rip off of one of the men. "This was the insignia they all marched under." It was a white background with a black half risen sun.

"Write a thorough report. I need to get one to his Highness as soon as possible. Have it on my desk in an hour and I need a runner ready to go by then," Faleron sighed. Just the night before he had let himself into her rooms to check in on her. He had had a bad feeling and he had wanted to make sure she was okay so he had gone to check on her and had ended up in her bed. She hadn't questioned his intentions or turn him away but she didn't let him hold her back from getting up at dawn again despite his pleas for her to stay put with him again.

Roald had told him in private before they left that he was glad Gwen was getting away from the palace for a while. He had believed that any personal attacks on Gwen would be restricted to the palace. Even Faleron had fallen into that mode of thinking. Gwen was in assassin danger at the palace. Out on patrols, she was just a normal squire. How he had wanted to believe that that had been the end of her problems until they returned in August. He wondered if Gwen had also believed that or if Gwen always believed she was in danger now.

Faleron sat down at his desk with his own letter to explain himself and why Gwen was where she was to Roald in the letter. It would go with the report in hopes that Roald would send help, authorize a recovery, make inquiries. Gwen was crafty and there was a chance she'd get away on her own, but there was also a chance she wasn't going to be in a position to get away, or worse, that she'd be dead before they got too far. He did know that once the letter was safely on its way, he would be taking a squad to canvas the area on the far side of the river that was still in Tortallan territory. He wasn't about to believe that she had crossed over into Tusaine until he could verify it with his own eyes.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Did you know that I love you all? Of course I do. I love every review, every favorite, and every follow. I love the people who favorite and follow me as an author. I love you guys. So I'm going to let you in on several secrets. One: I have several chapters prewritten and do not like to post chapters if I don't have the next one ready to go. Two: I've been reworking this chapter and the next three because I've been unhappy with their progress so they might come a little slower due to rewriting. Three: Sometimes I post slower because people are reading slower. I'm watching the number of views per chapter and when it hits the average, I post. It's to help those like me who automatically jump to the last chapter. It just so happens that the majority of you read within the first 18 hours or so. Four: This chapter and the next run concurrently for those of you attempting to pay attention to time.  
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Roald looked up to address his future council minus Faleron and Gwen and smiled. These were the people he had handpicked for positions within the palace when the others retired. He wasn't going to force anyone out of position. His Uncle Gary had asked to remain Prime Minister and he certainly wasn't going to take the man from the position that had become the passion of his life. The matter of his Champion had yet to take form. He was currently in debate between Faleron and Gwen. Both would be well suited for the job but on the other hand he needed to consider carefully. There was a point he was sure would come up about Gwen not being a knight yet but he had no doubts that she would survive her Ordeal. He could pull some strings for her. He was about to bring it up to those before him when the door to the meeting room opened and his father walked in. He frowned internally. His father had agreed to let him do this alone so he could show he wasn't going to be a puppet of his father and wouldn't always be seeking his approval. But right after Jonathon came a dusty and tired looking messenger in army maroon. The messenger looked at the company in the room and then to Jonathon before he walked up to Roald and handed over a letter.

"He said it had to be given to you directly and that you needed to read it right now," the messenger informed Roald.

"He who?" Roald asked. If this was a trick of an assassin he didn't want to open the letter.

"The knight that came to do the border patrol, Sir Faleron of King's Reach. He said you'd want to know immediately to see if recovery could be done for her." The messenger twisted under Roald's gaze for a long moment. Roald really didn't like the possibilities of the meanings behind those words. There was only one 'her'.

"Excuse me," Roald told the room and broke open the seal. Inside was a short letter from Faleron detailing what his side of the story was and what he wanted and the other was a report from the sergeant of Gwen's squad explaining how she had been taken. "You, were you there?" He turned to the messenger.

"Aye, roughly three squads of men-at-arms mounted on warhorses. They had us surrounded and then they surrounded her. Once they had her, they left."

"Over the border, you're sure?" Roald asked. "And what's this?" He held up the piece of cloth on the Sergeant's report.

"They crossed the river and continued west. Sir Faleron was gathering volunteers to canvas the Tortallan land on that side of the river as I was leaving." The messenger fell silent.

"And the cloth?" Roald reminded him.

"The insignia the men were wearing. Our Sergeant ripped one of their tunics," the messenger twisted.

"When are you expected to report back?" Roald trust a cup of apple juice at the man.

"Whenever your reply is ready."

"Hopefully within the hour." Roald turned to look at the people sitting, "Excuse me," then he marched out of the room. There were many ways a communication spell could take place. The common way was fire and he would use fire if he didn't want to see Edric's face and if he didn't have something he needed to show. Fire was for quick verbal communication only. Another was a two way spell between consenting mages. He didn't have one in Tusaine that had consented. Communication spells could be laid on jewelry, on certain stones, and in metal. But that required having gifted on to Edric long before this moment and once again they were just verbal. Spell mirrors were the only answer left available and as royalty both Roald and Edric had access to such expensive items. Roald went to his tucked away in his study. It was the same mirror that he had allowed Gwen to use when he had gifted her with her armor. He touched it with a spark of blue fire and muttered the words the to spell he had been taught. After a moment the smiling face of Edric appeared.

"Well, it's Prince Roald of Tortall!" He explained to whoever else was in the room. "Decided to tell me personally about your coronation? Congratulations!"

"Thank you, but my reasons for this are far less celebratory." Roald held up the letter. "This is a report from one of my army sergeants on the Tusaine/Tortall border."

"Roald, I swore peace to you and I meant it," Edric's face had fallen and his eyes followed the letter that Roald waved.

"My squire was on a border patrol and her squad was attacked by thirty men-at-arms wearing this symbol," he held up the cloth for Edric to see. "They knocked her out and took her, breaking off the attack as soon as she was over a horse. It is believed by both Sir Faleron who was at the fort with her as her mentor and by the squad she rode with that she was taken across the Drell and the men continued on due west."

"You think she's in Tusaine," Edric stepped sideways for the other person in the room and Roald recognized Sir Nikolas immediately.

"Not by your decree at least, Edric," Roald explained. "Does this look familiar to either of you? It doesn't look like any of the fief standards I've seen from Tusaine before." He held up the cloth again. This is where he wanted to see Edric's face in particular. He wanted to see if the man lied. Edric looked up at Roald and Roald could see the man was chewing on the inside of his lip, considering something. Then he looked to Nikolas who was staring at the cloth looking a bit dismayed.

"There's a small group in Tusaine plotting treason. We've had it under our watch for a while. That is believed to be their symbol," Nikolas explained after a long moment. "With the exception of... one... other incident, it's been just talk."

"From talk, to the other incident, to kidnapping the Tortallan Royal Squire sounds like a bit of a leap," Edric scratched at his chin. Roald wouldn't ask what the other incident was if they were taking care to talk around it. His focus was Gwen. "Perhaps they want the ransom to fund their treason. We'll investigate, Roald, and keep you informed. I know this is going to be a hard request to hear but it would be best for Tusaine if you didn't send any sort of recovery after her. Tusaine is at a delicate point and if the people see Tortallans here poking about and asking questions…"

"I understand Edric, I truly do. Please, I need her back in Tortall." Roald knew he was letting his own mask slip. Gwen was like a sister to him and she worked hard for him. She had made herself indispensable and now he would be planning his coronation without her valuable input and assistance. There was a chance she wouldn't be returned before he was crowned. But that was over two months away.

"We'll do our best, Roald. Remember she's a hero of Tusaine as well. When the ransom request comes, inform us as soon as you have it." The spell stopped and Roald was left looking at himself in the mirror.

He looked to his desk and went to withdraw a piece of paper and a quill. How was he going to explain to Faleron that they were going to do nothing in recovery except wait for Edric and a ransom? Could he expect that Faleron would just stay put at the fort and not go after her if he knew nothing else was being done? Faleron was loyal to a fault but he was protective of Gwen and they hadn't had enough time to figure out how the dynamics had changed between them now that Gwen was also his sweetheart. Did Roald still rank above Gwen in Faleron's books? Did that actually matter when she had been taken from him? Kel had also been loyal to a fault but had chased her refugees halfway across Scanra to bring them back.

"Do you think he'll listen to you?" Came the voice from the other side of the desk when Roald finished writing. He looked up to see Sir Myles patiently waiting in his chair. "Very well handled with Prince Edric I'd say. And he's right. We don't want to throw Tusaine into a civil war. It won't win us any favor with Edric if we spark it and the other side would prefer war with Tortall after that to recover what they view as their land." Roald wasn't surprised Myles had followed him or that he had listened in on the whole conversation. It was what he was supposed to do as Spymaster. And the disappearance of an important person usually had his name written all over it.

"I made a plea for him to return here. I need him now more than ever and there isn't much we can do but wait at this point. They'll ransom her. She's a noble and Edric is right, she's a hero of Tusaine and valuable to the Tusaine Crown. They'll either ask Tortall for a ransom or Tusaine, or both." Roald shook his head and looked down at the letter.

"If I might make a suggestion?" Myles stood. "Send a noble with your messenger. Someone young Faleron can't outrank." He turned to walk towards the door. "We learn from our mistakes and young Keladry managed to slip out of her escort by ordering them on and pulling rank. Sir Faleron might remember that and try the same." So Roald sent the letter back with the messenger and with Faleron's cousin Sir Merric.

Within a week Faleron was riding through the gates of the palace and fuming. He stormed through the palace grounds and straight up to Roald's office. Roald had been informed of his arrival and had already put tea on for the inevitable meeting.

"We're just waiting!" He snapped. "She's your squire. She's a Tortallan citizen, a Tortallan noble! She knows valuable information on this country! On you! You're just going to abandon her?" Roald was certain that the entire palace had heard him yelling but he sat calmly and waited for Faleron to scream himself out. It had probably been building since he got the letter.

"You brought Gwen's things and her horse I assume?" Roald asked as he poured the tea. He saw Faleron pause for a moment to register the change in conversation.

"Yes, I did," he was quieter now. "Roald, she's important. Not just to me and you, but politically. We can't just leave her out there to die."

"I didn't write everything in the letter that I wanted to." He pushed the cup of tea at Faleron and sat back in his chair. "I told you that I contacted Prince Edric and was letting him investigate the matter and that we were sending no recovery." Roald recapped the main part of his letter. Now he went on to explain the whole conversation until Faleron had sunk down into his chair and had covered his face completely.

"I need her back, Roald." Faleron's voice held him captive. He knew that Faleron had been serious about Gwen but how serious he had never gotten the chance to find out. Now it was the plea in his voice, the softness and agony it held that told him Faleron was in more pain than he was letting on.

"We'll get her, Fal. And I'll keep you informed on everything."

"Have you written to her parents?"

"Immediately after I wrote to you," Roald confirmed. "Now we just have to wait for the ransom request."

Roald continued on his planning and waited patiently for a note or some sort of communication regarding Gwen from her captors. Edric checked in nightly to see if they had heard anything yet but neither side had any information. The rest of July fell into August and then to September without a word. Roald had to make his final preparations for coronation and he couldn't delay anything any longer for Gwen to make her appearance. Faleron accepted the role as his champion and had thrown himself into the planning for Roald's safety during the royal ordeal and coronation with Lord Raoul and the King's Own. The job did fall completely to Raoul but Roald suspected Faleron wanted to make sure someone else wasn't lost on his watch.

"Cousin," the voice came from the spell mirror that Roald kept out and visible as a totem when working in his study. Roald stood and went to face Edric. He saw Faleron lurch to his feet as well.

"Tell me you have her," Roald begged. They had two weeks until the coronation and he wanted her there, at his side.

"We have a lead. A little over two months before Gwen was taken, there was another incident with our rebellion. We had one of our nobles go missing: the youngest son of our main general." Edric started.

"Why is that a breakthrough for finding Gwen?" Faleron interrupted.

"Because," Edric was a patient man and Roald could see he was using that patience for this conversation. During the past months of conversation it had likely become clear to Edric that Faleron had more personal involvement than professional involvement in her recovery. "Because my Spymaster believes they were taken by the same people to the same place for the same purpose: to extract information. It would be the only reason we haven't seen ransom for either of them. If they were no longer alive there would have been no reason to take either of them. We have his location narrowed down to several fiefs that he might have been taken to. There's some noble privilege we have to cut through to search but I can use searching for the general's son to push it through. It may take a few weeks to get that far. I'm sorry but unless she magically turns up at the palace doors in the next week, I can't get her to your coronation." Edric shook his head. "I'm doing whatever I can though. Please know that."

Roald stopped and thought for a brief moment. Sir Nikolas was the oldest son of the main general of Tusaine. If the youngest son of the main general was the one that had been taken, it meant that the other missing person was Nikolas' brother. That made this search just as personal for Edric as it was for him. He knew there was a reason Nikolas and Edric had referred to the disappearance as an incident. It was likely that the disappearance had been hushed up until recently to avoid panic by other nobles. If that was the case then Edric was about to make it public that one of their own nobles had been snatched for whatever reasons. It meant a lot to Roald and he was sure that when Faleron had a chance to digest it, it would mean a lot to him as well.

"This is amazing news. Thank you for letting us know!" Roald felt a surge of excitement. They had it narrowed down. There was a chance Gwen would be found soon. No, she wouldn't make it to the coronation if that was the case, but she would be back at his side when he was King and he would make it up to her. The mirror returned to its normal reflective state and Roald turned to Faleron, "Now we just need to get me through this coronation."

The evening of October 4th, Roald kissed his wife, each of his children, and hugged his parents. Then he followed Faleron down to the Chapel of Ordeal. He would spend the night in vigil and then when dawn came he would step into the Chamber and have his Ordeal of Kings. He knelt in front of the door and thought hard on what it meant to be King. He had been born for this. He had spent his life training for this. He would be charged with leading this country. He would be charged with the direction this country was moving in. Each Tortallan life was in his hands. He would be charged with the protection of each life in his kingdom. Somewhere behind him he heard Faleron settle into a new position. Duty, he was reminded of the strain of duty. Gwen was likely the first thing on Faleron's mind with all of this time to think and here he was, sitting in the Chapel of Ordeal with nothing but time to think and his duty to Roald was keeping him here. He knew Faleron had been sleeping less, training more, and occupied his mind with the coronation to keep tracking Gwen out of his mind. The strain of duty was a man whose lover was missing and he was sitting and guarding the next king rather than searching for her. That was also the strain of duty of being a king. Matters of the heart often had to be set aside for duty. It was something he had learned early in life.

The first rays of light came through the windows to touch the sun disk on the wall and the priests stepped out to open the door of the chamber while Roald stood. He swore when he was knighted that he would face the day he had to step back into the chamber as a day he would face bravely. He stepped inside of the chamber as watchers came to see if he would step out alive. In all of Tortallan history no Conte had failed the Ordeal of Kings. He intended to make sure he wasn't the first. The iron door closed and he was alone in the dark.

_It was a Midsummer Ball and he was waving a pretty dark haired squire over to him. He recognized Gwen and felt his heart twinge at her missing. When she drew level with him he saw her eyes slide over his shoulder and this time he turned to follow her gaze. There on the balcony was the archer. He felt Gwen's hands on his chest to push him down and something like instinct forced him to grab her and spin her in front of him. He held her there as each of the three arrows thudded into her body. Only when the archer was taken down did he let her body slump to the ground. He was horrified with himself. He had used her like a shield. Looking down at his hands he saw her blood was smeared across them. Her blood was on his hands literally and figuratively. He had been using her as a shield when he had asked her to be his squire and sadly that was exactly what a King was supposed to do. Allow people to become shields while the King let them die first. It was a sad reality._

_The scene changed and Roald was standing in front of the gallows on Traitor's Hill. The executioner led out a chain of people he knew. Keladry of Mindelan, Nealan of Queenscove, Merric of Hollyrose, Seaver of Tasride, Esmond of Nicoline, and Owen of Jesslaw. He listened as the charges read were for treason and deserting during war. He had feared this day when the Scanran War was still going on. He had feared he'd see his closest friends executed or banished from Tortall. Now he watched as they were each led up to the gallows and the executioner looked to him to approve each one. Some force made him nod to each one and he watched as he sent each of his friends to their deaths. This was again duty before matters of the heart. He had a duty to be fair and treat his friends no different than soldiers he barely knew._

_The scene change again and Roald was standing in a brightly lit room where a table, a full tub, a chair, and several obvious torture devices were. The door opened and two faceless men walked in, one carrying a scrap of humanity that looked thin enough to break. Even coated in dirt and grime and half her original size, he recognized Gwen. Her little, rough clothing was removed and she was tossed into the tub. He could see her fingers were twisted strangely, swollen, and purplish, and her back was striped with angry looking scabs. The bigger of the two men scrubbed her with rough wool until her skin was raw and red and the scabs had reopened on her back. Then she was hauled up and set in one of the chairs._ _She was so limp she nearly slipped out of her seat._

"Tell me about your Prince," _came a voice_. _The Gwen in the vision refused to speak._ "This is your last chance today, Gwendolyn. You know my questions by now." _Roald watched as a vial was produced when Gwen refused to speak. Her mouth was pried open and the contents of the vial were poured down her throat. He watched her eyes roll back into her head for a moment and then the bigger of the two faceless men scooped her up and carried her away from the room. Somehow this didn't feel like the other visions. He had a feeling this is where Gwen had been and if Gwen had survived, she would return in a terrible state. This was also a sad reality of being royal and King. The people he loved could and would be hurt or killed to either get him to cooperate or to hurt him in some way.  
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The vision cleared and the door behind him opened. As he stepped out, Faleron was there to catch him. There was nothing he could say to the man. He was not allowed to speak of his Ordeal and he could not tell Faleron he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Gwen had been tortured. He let Faleron help him out of the Chapel and up to his rooms. He would be allowed to sleep for a few hours and then the rest of the day would be spent in the Hall of Crowns. He thought sleep would elude him but his tired body gave in without warning his mind and he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The Mithran Priest and the Priestess of the Goddess blessed the silver crowns that would go on Roald and Shinko's head. Lord Raoul and Faleron stood nearby the altar. It was the duty of the King's Own that Roald survive the day and it was Faleron's duty to stand by Roald as his Champion. Roald knelt with Shinko before the Priest and Priestess as they chanted and lifted the crown up and then lowered it onto his head and then onto Shinko's head. He felt the magic of the land run through him and he had been prepared by his father for this moment. He was enveloped in silver magic and he could hear the crowd ooing and awing at the spectacular show. He knew Shinko wasn't experiencing the same thing. While she was Queen, only the King was bound to the land. That only changed when the natural heir to the throne was female and then she would be bound by the magic of the land. When the lights died around him his father stood and made a show of handing over the Dominion Jewel to him. He felt its magic spark through him as well and he knew it had bound to him as well. The only duty that Roald would not perform until his father had died would be as Voice of the Tribes. That would only come when Jonathon was ready to pass on as was the tradition of the Voice.

Then they moved on to the celebrations and Roald was able to sit and enjoy a meal and entertainment while his court feasted in honor of him. Faleron sat to his right while Shinko sat to his left.

"Lord Raoul wanted me to tell you they had four separate attacks that were stopped before you were crowned. There has been no activity since." Faleron muttered only loud enough for Shinko and himself to hear. "The hope is now that you are bound to the land, they will stop trying so hard."

"We can drink to hope then," Roald raised his cup. He didn't feel any different really. He was the King of Tortall now but Gwen weighed heavily on his mind. If the vision in the Chamber of Ordeal was correct, she wasn't coming back the same if at all and he needed to prepare for both outcomes.


	30. Chapter 30

Gwen woke to find herself in a stone closet no bigger than her single bed had been in her room as a page. One wall was a barred door. Against the back wall was a short stone bench and a pail under it. Her head was pounding and when she did manage to sit up she realized she had been changed out of her armor and clothes into something that looked to be a burlap sack that only went as far as her knees. She very briefly noticed her loincloth was gone and then she was distracted by an ache between her legs. She was fairly certain she knew why it ached but she wasn't in a position to be emotional. Her stomach also ached and her throat was completely dry. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious but she knew she hadn't eaten or drank long enough for it to have an effect. Her head ached and even this small room spun when she tried to look around.

"The Princess awakes," she heard someone say. Looking across the way she could make out another cell across from her in the dark. She wanted to ask if they knew where the cells were located or what was going on but she couldn't bring herself to speak. She didn't have herself under enough control yet and she needed control in order to come up with a good way out of this. She remembered that meditation was the way to controlling the body and mind and that did not require a ton of space. So she folded her legs and settled her hands on her knees and began to breathe in a half remembered pattern. It took some time but she managed to push back the feeling of hunger and of thirst. She pushed back the ache in her head and the emotions about what had likely happened when she was unconscious. She pushed back her fear and the ache in her heart for Roald and for Faleron when they found out she was missing.

A noise at the door made her exit her meditative state. There was a burly looking man wearing a white tunic with a black half sun. It was the same insignia of the men that had attacked her squad. He glared down at her and then opened the door to put down a tray. There was a small crust of bread and a ladleful of water. The door then closed and the guard went to the person across the way and gave him the same.

"They don't poison the food," the voice came across the short hall again after the guard had left. She could tell it was male and older. "They'd rather we die when they say so and poison is too easy."

"You been here long?" Gwen managed after she had sipped at the water.

"Ah, the Princess speaks," was the response. "I've been here one hundred and fifty-two feedings. However long that is. There are no windows underground here and I can only guess at how often we're fed." He started to hack.

"So why call me the 'Princess'," she asked.

"That's what they called you when they brought you in sweetheart," she could hear enough in his voice to know he was educated and he probably had a good sense of humor too.

"What do they call you?" She asked.

"Louse." She knew it wasn't his real name and she wouldn't give her real name either. It was how things worked. "Eat. Drink. They'll be back for the tray in five minutes."

"How often do they feed us, roughly," she was curious if she should conserve food somewhere.

"My guess is twice a day."

"Do they ever empty the pails?" She found herself asking.

"They'll empty it when you are removed from your cell but you won't use it much." She didn't need to ask his reasoning behind not using it much. If this was all she was getting it was likely there wouldn't be much waste from it. She ate her bread and then drank her water and set the tray back by the door.

"How often do they remove us from our cells?" She asked wondering why on earth they would be dragged out for.

"As often as they think they can break you," came the response.

"How often do you get removed from your cell?" She hoped, since he had been so helpful thus far, that he would be able to give her an idea of what she was expecting.

"I don't go anywhere anymore. They realized I know nothing of importance to them." She was about to question how his bucket ever was emptied then but it seemed like a silly question now. What did it matter when he was in a dungeon facing starvation and dehydration if his pail was emptied? And now she had more to worry about. Depending on what they were looking for, she knew a lot. She knew the personal life and workings of the Tortallan Royalty. She knew the inner workings of the Tortallan Palace. Louse might not have been a good informant but it was likely she could be. Were these the people who hired the assassins to go after Roald and herself? It seemed likely. But then who was Louse to them and what information had they wanted from him? There were so many questions that came to her mind that she had no answers to. And since there was nothing she could do about it now so she crossed her legs again and went back to meditating.

The door clanked open again less than five minutes later and she felt a vice like grip seize her bicep and force her to stand. She fought the grip and the result was being half drug, half carried out of her cell to a door that blazed with light behind it. The door opened and she was blinded by the white light inside. When she finally got her eyes under control, she was strapped down to a table. There were three people in the room and she didn't recognize any of them. All three were men and two were wearing the white tunic with the black half sun while the last one wore green and blue. Those colors at least looked familiar to her. There was a fief in Tortall with those colors.

"Ah, so we meet at last, Gwendolyn of Merrywood of Tortall," the first man was tall and slight with graying brown long hair tied back into a horsetail and a completely gray goatee. The other man was her big burly guard. She raised an eyebrow at him. He had called her 'of Tortall' did that mean she wasn't in Tortall anymore? Tusaine was just a stone's throw from where she was taken. It was likely she was in Tusaine but why would Tusaine want to kidnap her? Edric was on great terms with Roald, was on great terms with her. She was a hero of Tusaine, not that she liked the idea of it but it had to count for something.

"Ah of course you don't know me and you don't need to." The slight man interpreted her confusion as a lack of knowledge of who he was rather than the whole situation. "What you do need to know is your life will be much more comfortable if you cooperate with me, with us. And to do that all you have to do is tell me exactly what I require. Should you not tell me what I require," he nodded to the guard who produced a large jug. She knew enough to know that water torture was likely what he meant. She probably should have requested some sort of training for this. She had no training for this. She had no liar's palace and no sort of defense against torture. All she had was a few hours of mediation and silence. Could she keep silent? She would try. She had committed to dying before, she could do it again.

"Tell me the plans for Prince Roald's coronation," came the first request. She closed her eyes and remembered the first time she had held a bow and it had felt so right in her grip. Her nose was plugged and the water was forced down her throat and into her lungs. Involuntarily she gasped and coughed against the water. She struggled against the straps that held her to the table trying to get away from the water and the hand that held her nose shut. Then it stopped.

"Tell me where Prince Roald's private apartment is." She thought about riding on Rue through the trees at Merrywood and the wind in her hair. Her nose was plugged and the water returned.

"Tell me the names of Prince Roald's personal servants." She thought about the moment Roald had asked her to be his squire and how she had looked forward to working so closely with him. She would learn everything about him. And she did know almost everything about him which is why she was the perfect target for this sort of thing. Her nose was plugged and the water returned.

Twenty-three questions were asked in total and Gwen refused to answer any of them and she was exhausted. The guard unstrapped her from the table and hefted her up over his shoulder. As he started to carry her out of the room, she heard the third man in the green and blue talk for the first time.

"She didn't talk. My employer needs her to talk. We need that information. You promised us we'd get information." He sounded anxious and twitchy. "When we hired you, you said you'd get us information."

"It's only the first day, relax. Today was the easiest. She'll break eventually." Slight informed Twitch. Whatever else was said she missed as the door closed to shut them out and she was carried back to her cell. She was tossed inside down onto the hard stone ground while the door was slammed shut. When the guard was gone, she dragged herself to the pail in the back and start coughing up the water in her lungs.

"Easy there Princess," she heard Louse say. After she vomited up all of the water she could force out of her body, she leaned against the wall to breathe for a few moments.

"At least I managed to drink some of it. So much for dehydrating us," she managed to gasp out. After a moment she heard something that sounded like a laugh from across the way. It was a small victory and she would keep it to herself.

After the next meal Gwen was hauled up again and carried like a puppy by the scruff to the room. This time she was strapped into a chair and her hands were pulled out and strapped down onto a table. Her thumbs were rigged into a metal device she had heard of but had never seen called thumbscrews. The Slight stood in front of her and Twitch stood to the side. Slight started asking his questions. The same twenty-three questions were asked and each time she lost herself in memories for the few moments before the torture started. She thought about Faleron and why she had fallen for him and the four weeks she had thought she was dreaming while he doted on her. First her thumbs were crushed until she heard the bones snap and then each of her other fingers. She didn't scream exactly but she wasn't silent as each finger was broken one by one. She answered no questions and was taken back to nurse her hands in her cell.

Her fingers swelled and in the dark she couldn't tell but she guessed her fingers had turned purple with bruising. She had trouble eating. She had trouble drinking. She was sure they would never heal right and she would never be able to manage her own spoon and fork again. She would never hold her bow and shoot again. She would never be able to write a letter or hold a cup. And when she had exhausted all of the things she would never be able to do again she realized that it was unlikely she would be able to survive long enough to see the side effects. She didn't plan on talking and worse tortures awaited her.

The next time she was laid down on a table with her feet in the air. The guard stood at the other end with a rod. Twenty-three questions passed and Gwen was unable to keep from screaming as the rod smashed into the soles of her feet. But she did manage not say anything remotely like words throughout the torture.

The next time she was whipped with five lashes for each question she refused. One hundred fifteen lashes later her back was so raw and bloody she was certain that the scars on the front of her body would look as normal as a few freckles in comparison. The pain left her completely unable to even utter a coherent word to answer the questions. In a way, she was thankful that even if she had wanted to talk, she wouldn't have been able to.

After she was carried back to her cell she was left alone for a while. The small amount of food and water was taking its toll on her. She knew the pain of hunger and dehydration as easily as she knew the pain of her broken fingers, raw and open back, and bloody tender feet. She was growing thinner and she felt weak. She barely had the energy to speak to Louse who tried to lighten the mood every now and then for her.

She was left alone for ten whole feedings before the guard reappeared and lifted her from the floor of her cell to be brought to the torture room. She was stripped of her burlap sacking and laid naked halfway onto a table with her legs dangling. Vaguely she wondered what torture Slight would have carried out this time but this time Slight wasn't even there. Neither was Twitch. Her guard stood before her and thrust her legs apart. Her pain, hunger, and dehydration racked mind barely registered what was happening until the man was between her legs. She knew in her gut that she had been raped when she had been unconscious but this was different, she was completely conscious if not fully aware and this wasn't even as punishment for refusing to answer questions. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps it was just punishment for not cooperating thus far. She didn't know but it hurt and she just wanted it to stop. But it didn't stop. After the guard was done another appeared. She lost count of how many there were by the end and when she was carried back to her cell, the guard threw her sacking on top of her and laughed.

"Princess?" She heard Louse call when they were alone for a while. She didn't want to hear whatever joke he thought would be funny about this one. "I'm sorry, Princess. If it helps, I think that being kept at the point of starvation will keep you from getting pregnant." He left it at that. She knew he had a point and with her pregnancy charm long gone with her clothes it was a concern that she would wind up pregnant by one of the rapes. She curled into herself and let the tears come. She wanted to go home. She wanted to sleep in Faleron's arms and to eat apple cakes and to shoot her bow. But Faleron probably wouldn't want her anymore. She was damaged in more than just the physical sense now.

Twenty three feedings later, the exact number of questions she had been asked each time, the guard finally returned to remove her from her cell. He carried her away to the torture room and this time she couldn't fight. She had no energy to fight. She didn't make him drag her. She just laid limp over his shoulder. She was strapped into a chair and Slight sat down next to her while Twitch stood at her other side.

"Alright Gwendolyn, I must insist you tell me what I need to know now. If you tell me what I need to know you can have a bath and a nice bed. You can have a full meal and we may even be able to save the use of your hands." He painted a picture of pleasant things that most nobility enjoyed.

"Have you ransomed me to my country?" She managed to rasp out. "Nobles are to be ransomed." She heard Twitch take a sharp intake of breath at her comment.

"There will be no ransom for you," he told her sternly. "Now tell me what I need to know."

"If you won't ransom me though some of our oldest customs dictate it, why should I believe that any of this will get better if I tell you anything?" She asked. She let out a wheezy laugh when he stared at her. "You're a liar and I'll take my secrets to the Peaceful Realms." She saw Slight wave someone else forward.

"What are Prince Roald's plans for the coronation?" He started again. Gwen honestly didn't know. She was supposed to have been back in Corus planning it with him after the patrol was done. All she knew was he had spent the time she was on patrol gathering his official council. She couldn't have answered that question if she wanted to. Slight stood aside for a man in yellow robes. He sat down next to her and took her wrist in his slimy hand. There was a spark of ugly brown magic and then she felt every vein in her body fill with thousands of burning needles. It pressed on her lungs, her heart. Her blood felt like it was boiling. The pain filled her up and then burst out of her mouth in bloodcurdling screams. Then it stopped and she felt the needles ebbing away.

"Tell me where Prince Roald's private apartment is," came the familiar second question. After a few moments of silence the magic sparked again. After the full twenty-three questions she was little more than a puddle within her skin. She could barely breathe or gain the energy to lift her head. Her heart beat feebly inside of her.

"What are we going to do? The coronation is getting too close. We need her to talk to get plans in place. I need to get back to my employer. What am I going to tell him? You said she would talk." Twitch whined as Gwen was unstrapped from the chair.

"Tell him the girl received elite training from her realm's spymasters to keep her from speaking. We were not informed of these things so we were not properly equipped. It is the fault of your employer that we were not informed of such. You go to your employer and I will continue to try and get information. Should I learn anything else, I will let you know soonest."

"See that you do. We need to kill him before he is crowned and bound to the magic of the land and the Dominion Jewel." Twitch actually did twitch as he said the words.

Internally she frowned at what she was hearing. The coronation was soon and she was trapped here. And what was this about elite training? She had received nothing of the sort and she knew he was making it up to cover his behind. He had underestimated her ability to keep her mouth shut. He had also overestimated her ability to withstand the pain to be able to utter words. She wouldn't correct him though. It left her looking much stronger than she actually was and that didn't seem like a bad thing. The guard carried her back to her cell and tossed her down. She was unable to move though her arm was under her body at an awkward angle. She couldn't even find the strength the talk back to Louse when he inquired about what they had done to elicit such screams from her. She couldn't even bring herself to eat when the feedings came around.

After five refused meals, Slight came down himself with a lantern to investigate. She heard Louse make snide comments before she was turned over to face him. "You're not allowed to die yet. I say when you die," Slight told her calmly. "Force feed her from now on." She was left lying on her back as the light faded away. The guard entered her cell and forced the bread into her mouth and the water down her throat.

She lost track of the days. Of the number of feedings. She knew it couldn't have been too many and she knew she could ask Louse but she couldn't make the words come out of a useless throat and mouth. And with her inability to speak to him, he retreated into his own silence. Without Louse talking to her or an ability to do anything at all, it felt like an eternity and a half before Slight requested her back to the torture room. She was set in a tub of freezing water and scrubbed until her skin was raw. She didn't understand why she was being cleaned or what this was but she did know she probably wouldn't like any of the answers. When she was pulled out of the tub Slight had her set in a chair and left her unstrapped.

"Tell me about your Prince," she heard him say. It was a different approach but she still couldn't talk and even if she could have, she wouldn't have. She had promised to protect Roald. "This is your last chance today Gwendolyn," he informed her. "You know my questions by now." She managed to shake her head and felt like she was about to snap her own neck. The guard stepped forward with a small vial of greenish liquid. It was pushed against her lips and the guard squeezed her jaw until her mouth popped open and poured the liquid inside. It burned her tongue and throat. It set her insides on fire. And then she was brought back to her cell to wait for whatever this drug would do. It clearly wouldn't make her spill her secrets, it was only punishment.

Within minutes back in her cell alone she knew she had been fed a powerful hallucinogen. She was seeing the walls moving and monsters appearing out of thin air. She saw horrible visions of people she knew being ripped apart by demons. Shutting her eyes didn't help as the images played on in her mind. She had no control over it. She just had to sit and endure it for however long it was. The next time she heard anything that sounded real it was conversation.

"How long has she been like this?" A calm voice was asking.

"She's been loopy for two weeks by my rough estimate. The feeding schedule was pretty set and I could only guess how many hours apart it was." She heard Louse speaking to someone. "They got her pretty good."

"She looks like it. Prince Edric has been looking for her and he won't be happy about this one bit."

"Why would Prince Edric be looking for Princess?" Louse asked.

"She's high profile," was the response. "Come on Squire Gwendolyn, let's get you to the palace where a proper healer can see to you." She felt arms slip under her back and legs and she was lifted but there was little she could do to help or respond. The visions were taking over again.


	31. Chapter 31

The bed under her was soft and smelled of lavender and lilacs. The pillow under her head was soft and comfortably cool. The comforter over her body was thick with down and plush. She knew this wasn't death and briefly she recalled that someone had spoken to her in a moment of clarity and had told her they were going to the palace but they had mentioned Prince Edric, not Roald. Was she in Tusaine still?

"Ah the Princess awakes," she heard a familiar voice say. She opened her eyes and turned to look at the other bed in the room. There was the owner of the voice, a young man that looked terribly thin with thin blonde hair and gray eyes. Here was Louse in the flesh. In the dark dungeons all she had been able to do was see a faint outline of him at best before. "Or shall I say Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood of the realm of Tortall," he was sitting up in his bed with his legs crossed under the covers with a book on his lap.

She meant to answer him but she felt so weak and speaking was far too much effort. "Ah, we are still mute. The question is, are you being selectively mute or have you forgotten how to use your voice with all of that refusal to talk?" She just blinked at him. This man had been a small comfort in the dungeons and she was unable to talk to him. Her body was too weak that she couldn't communicate in any other ways either. It frustrated her to the point of tears that she was so weak. At the first sign of tears in the corners of her eyes, Louse was pushing off his covers. He came to sit on the edge of her bed and moved to stroke the hair away from her eyes. She flinched away from his first touch and he raised his hands to show her he wasn't going to touch her. "Shh, it's okay. I was only teasing. You're safe now. It's okay. You're okay…" he continued to murmur quiet reassurances that she was safe and okay and would remain so. But she couldn't stop the tears from leaking out of the corners of her eyes. She wanted to be at the palace in Tortall, to return to the moment Roald had told her she would be going on border patrol with Faleron again, to refuse and carry on with her normal duties. She wanted the use of her hands back and to be able to talk and to be with people she knew.

"Are you talking to yourself, Al?" She heard a voice she had definitely heard before and someone came in through the door. "She's awake?"

"She just woke not too long ago. I teased her because she won't talk to me and she just started crying," Louse said from next to her.

"Move," the familiar voice issued an order, albeit nicely. She felt the pressure on the edge of the bed go away and then come back. "She doesn't know you. Not really. I'm not sure I'll be much better. We didn't part on the best terms." She heard him explain. "Gwen," he called her name.

"Don't touch her," she heard Louse say. "I don't know all of what they did in the end but she doesn't want to be touched anymore."

"I won't touch you," the familiar voice told her softly. "Gwen, it's Nik. Sir Nikolas. We met when I was sent to represent Prince Edric in Corus as an ambassador and diplomat." Of course the voice sounded familiar and now that he said his name, she knew him. But remembering that he was familiar to her reminded her of Faleron and his attentions to her long after Gwen had discovered Nik had stood her up due to breeches as a clothing choice. "Do you remember me?" She managed to nod even with her eyes shut tight against the tears still leaking out.

"Nik?" Another familiar voice came through the door. But now she was at least aware of who it might be. The only other familiar voice she'd recognize in Tusaine would be Prince Edric. "Are you visiting Aloys?" There was a pause and then she heard shuffling at the door. "What's this?"

"Gwen woke. She's being reasonably emotional and according to my brother, doesn't want to be touched," Nik explained.

"Ah, perhaps she'd like some comforting news then." Edric's voice moved closer and Gwen opened her eyes a small slit to look up at him. "Your Prince survived his coronation just over a week ago. He is now King of Tortall." Gwen was indeed comforted by that information but at the same time, she was also saddened that she hadn't been there for him. She had wanted to be there to catch him as he stepped out of the Ordeal chamber and wanted to stand by his side after he was crowned. She wanted to assure him that he would do a wonderful job as King because he was already everything a King should be and more. But she hadn't been there. She hadn't been there because she was trapped in a cell protecting him by enduring everything that was done to her. She doubted she'd ever be remotely 'normal' again. Her feet still hurt. Her hands were still stiff and tender. She still couldn't find any amount of strength to do more than cry silently. The tears were coming more now and she drew a shaky breath.

"Perhaps we should get a healer," Nik slid off of the edge of the bed and left the room.

"Gwen, I need to contact Roald still and let him know you were found and are alive. I wanted to wait until you woke so we knew for certain," Edric was talking faster. "Is there anything you want me to tell him? Is there anything you want?" He pressed. Her mind was screaming, begging her mouth to just find the strength for a few words to respond. Yes! She wanted him to tell Roald to come and get her and then she wanted to go home as soon as the escort arrived. She wanted to be left alone until then so she didn't embarrass herself any further. "Please talk to me," he begged. "I can't tell Roald anything if you don't tell me what I should tell him." She only cried harder in response because she imagined that Edric would probably say she was alive and healing and they would send her on her way when she was able again and diplomatically Roald would have to be alright with that. Her healing could take months and she didn't want to spend months in Tusaine with people she barely knew.

"Your Highness, she isn't able to talk. I'm surprised she can even cry," the healer appeared with Nik. "We haven't done anything more than assess her and wait for the toxin she was fed to dissipate from her system. Her body is unable to cope with the amount of weight and muscle she has lost. Her heart and lungs are constricted, likely permanently damaged from whatever they did to her. Beyond that, she is likely in a great amount of pain. Her fingers were all broken on both hands and obviously haven't healed properly, the soles of her feet were beaten raw and bloody at some point. Her back is a battlefield of whip wounds. And here you three are pressuring her to talk." The healer was an older woman with steel gray eyes and hair that was slowly turning from auburn to gray. "You tell her King that she requires comfort, whatever that means to him. If she was his personal squire, he ought to know what that means. Now let's get a look at you properly," the healer shouldered past Edric and cupped Gwen's cheek in a soft hand. Gwen tried her hardest not to wince or recoil from the woman. She knew that the healer was there to help but she couldn't help it. She heard murmured apologies to the healer and herself from all three men. "You'll feel better when you've had some fat put back on your bones and some decent rest," the healer told her. "We can start with a meal while I go back to planning how to start healing you." She waved someone else forward and she saw a servant with a tray. Once he uncovered the tray she could smell glorious, wonderful food. "Someone will have to feed you, I'm afraid. I doubt you can manage the bowl or the spoon." And she was right. Gwen knew there was no way her hands would curve around the bowl even if she could lift it.

"I'll do it," Nik came back into view. He reached down to shift her into a sitting position and she flinched hard as his hands came into contact with her shoulders. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I'll try to minimize the contact." After she was lifted enough for pillows to be placed under her so she could recline, Nik let her go and avoided touching her completely by using the spoon to feed her a thick honey and milk porridge. There was an odd taste under all of the sweetness but she wasn't in a position to refuse the food or ask what it was. Once she was fed, Nik reluctantly touched her to lower her back down to rest.

Sleep was something she wished she could do without. Her dreams were turbulent. She dreamed up the horrible visions that the hallucinogenic potion made her see mixed with memories of the whip, and her fingers breaking one by one, and the rapes, and the rod, and finally the mage with the ugly brown magic that made her insides scream with pain. She couldn't make herself wake either. Her body craved the sleep and her mind was locked in with it until it got what it needed.

"Squire Gwen, you need to wake up now," she heard the healer tell her. Her body began to obey and slowly her mind was released from the tortures. When she opened her eyes the healer was standing over her with a small table of bandages and small flat sticks of wood. "I'm going to start the healing process on your hands. What I need to explain to you is that you're hands have begun to heal improperly due to the amount of time that has passed without them being set right. Because they were broken quite some time ago in your body's standards, we can't rely on my Gift to mend the damage. I am going to use my Gift but it will be to go in and rebreak all of the bones so they can be set properly. I'll use my Gift to guide them back into their proper places, and then I will splint each finger and bandage it. Normally, an injury like this would take three maybe four weeks to get to a point we can start working the flexibility back in again, but you're malnourished and unable to get true rest. It will be awhile for the bones to mend." Gwen nodded her understanding. Since it was a healer breaking her fingers once again, she believed there would be less pain, that the healer would numb down the area. "Alright, I'm going to get started. Here, bite this." She stuffed a wad of cloth into Gwen's mouth.

The healer did nothing to numb the area. She did nothing to hold the pain at bay. Gwen somehow found the energy and the voice to cry out with every snap into the cloth that kept her from biting her tongue. Tears were running down her cheeks in excess as the healer stopped between each break to bind up the aching fingers one by one. She didn't look up, didn't mummer apologies as she worked, didn't address Gwen at all after she had started. The contents of her stomach rolled in rejection of the pain and she tried her best to keep the contents down. She needed them to stay put. Perhaps in the dungeon she hadn't been ill because she hadn't had any sort of excess of food to be ill with.

"You did well," the healer told her calmly when she finished. If Gwen could have spoken she would gave told the healer to shove her Gift up her behind where it could serve of some use. She did allow a fairly murderous look on her face when the healer went to remove the cloth from her mouth. The healer recoiled briefly and then briskly removed the cloth. "Someone will be in to feed you."

She was fed once more by a man she didn't know. Again it was porridge with honey and milk. And again there was an odd taste she couldn't trace. Once she was done Edric arrived back into the room. His eyes swept over her wet cheeks, her bound up hands, and Louse missing from his bed.

"Just as well he's not here," Edric told her calmly. "I'd ask how you are feeling but I doubt I'd like the answer. The healer didn't want to discuss why you look like you'd rather murder someone now either." He sighed and sat down in a chair by the bed. "It is the opinion of your healer, myself, and anyone who so much as glances at you that you're in no condition to travel and will not be for several months." He withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the tear marks on her face. She flinched the first time and then let him continue. "You really don't want to be touched at all, do you?" He sounded surprised. "I thought Aloys was just being oddly protective." He looked her over. "I suppose you have good reason not to trust anyone right now. We haven't done much to make you feel better other than clean you up nicely and give you a soft bed. I want you to know, I contacted Roald and told him you were alive and in my palace. I don't know how to describe how happy he was that you were alive. I have no doubts if he wasn't bound to his palace by duty, he'd be on his horse right now on his way to get you. I tried to warn him that you were in no condition for me to send back to him. He heard my concerns and told me he was sending some trusted people to retrieve you. He's sending his Champion as his representative. I don't know who he picked to be his Champion. I was hoping that you'd know and hopefully it's a comfort to you."

Gwen didn't know who Roald's Champion was but there was a small pool of people he would choose from and any of them would be a comfort at this time.

"I know you can understand me even if you can't talk back right now, so I think I should explain some things to you. You were taken by a rebellion that was forming in Tusaine. I don't know what connection they had to the assassinations in Tortall. We were monitoring the rebellion after their abduction of Sir Aloys. He tells me you'd know him better by Louse. Sir Aloys is Nik's youngest brother. When Roald contacted me and showed us the symbol that you were abducted we told him of the rebellion but we didn't understand the connection between you and Aloys. You two were the only two they took. They never sent for a ransom for you. They never made it knowledge they had you just like they never sent for a ransom for Aloys or made it known he was in their grips. All we had in connection was that symbol. We managed to isolate the fiefs involved and slowly start chipping away at the rebellion until we managed to find which fief might hold the two of you. I let Roald know that we had possibly located you and I'm sure he started preparing for your return.

"We brought both you and Aloys back to the palace and Aloys made the request for you two to be in the same room. He wanted you to be around someone familiar to you. Nik and I supported his request because we both knew that we'd both be visiting Aloys enough that we'd be able to keep an eye on you. You have not been healed properly with a Gift because I'm sure you know that the Gift restores health and draws on the strength of the body to heal. For some reason, you don't have that strength and it's not restoring as fast as Aloys' has. He did say he had stopped being tortured long before you arrived and that you were tortured close up to the end. We thought it might have been the toxin they fed you that kept you from being able to regain your strength but it's well out of your system now. My healer is mixing a draught into your meals that will give you the nutrients you need so we can give you some things that will feed you up a bit. You might have noticed it. Aloys certainly did. We are doing our best to help you but your body is too weak. The healer is doing her best with what she can do for you. She is my personal healer. She's very good at what she does. I don't want you leaving with whatever representatives show up thinking that we tried to torture you further."

It made sense to her. She was glad someone had taken the time to talk to her, to explain some of her questions to her. And she was grateful for Aloys who was bringing up some of the things she had questions about to either Nik or Edric so they realized she might have the same questions.

"I have to ask, do you want your own room? I'd prefer you stay put because we don't want to move you and risk damaging you further and we want someone here to keep an eye on you should your body suddenly decide it's too weak to carry on." She understood his reasoning and despite wanting to be alone, she knew he had a point. She didn't feel like she was dying, just that she was eternally weak. But how long would that last? She didn't know. Did she want to be alone in a room by herself when it happened? "Do you want your own room?" She shook her head. "Alright. I'm going to go see if there is anything else we can do for you." He stood. "I will be around often and I'll try and keep you updated." He left then and Aloys poked his head back in.

"Princess, I'm starting to believe that you might be the strongest person I know. I couldn't even sit in here when she was doing that to your hands. I was turning green." He went and sat back on his bed. "I've been thinking. You don't like being touched, reasonably so. I was thinking we could wedge the mattress up so you are inclined enough and then no one has to touch you to lift you up each time. And sleeping slightly inclined won't hurt you." Gwen thought about it a moment. It was a new instinct to avoid touch. She wasn't reacting consciously to each touch and she hoped it would go away soon but it was likely until then it was causing unnecessary stress on her system. Perhaps his idea would be a good solution. She nodded to him hoping that he would understand that she likely the idea. "Good, I'll figure something out and hopefully you can start feeling less anxious."

Gwen slept rarely. Her dreams were filled with a mixture of the tortures she had faced and once she had discovered how to drag herself out of the dreams, she tried her hardest not to fall back asleep. Aloys stuck to his attempts to make her feel better somehow and helped Nik prop up her mattress with a thin folded mattress likely taken from a pallet. Once she was set up, she no longer needed to be lifted for meals which minimized any touches that happened routinely. Her meals consisted of porridge and thick soups both containing the odd aftertaste that was supposed to be the nutrient draught. She saw the healer rarely and Edric only slightly more often. Her constant companions were Aloys and Nik whenever he came to check in on his brother.

"Roald said his representatives left Corus yesterday and should arrive here within two weeks. Perhaps faster if they decide to push themselves." Edric told her three days after she first woke. If he noticed the dark circles from the little sleep, he didn't point them out.

A few days later she was laying with her eyes closed, resting without sleeping when she heard Edric come in. Nearby Nik had been visiting with Aloys and she hadn't been eavesdropping but now seemed like a decent time to listen.

"I hope Roald's representatives get here soon. I don't want her dying before they get here," Edric's voice was quiet. She must have looked asleep for him to make such a comment. "The healers think she won't survive the week at this rate."

"What makes them think that? That she's not gaining strength? Edric, I don't know what they did to her but one day they carried her away and when she returned she didn't move and she hasn't spoken since. If she hasn't died since then, I doubt she's about to die on us now when she's being fed better and being looked after constantly." Aloys' voice was a little louder.

"She's getting rings around her eyes but all she does is sleep. She looks like death," Edric pressed.

"She's not sleeping. You've never been in here when she sleeps. She just lays there with her eyes closed but she's not sleeping. You know when she sleeps because she starts crying out and whimpering." Aloys explained. She had wondered if her nightmares were contained to just her head. Now she knew otherwise. Now she knew Aloys was well away she had nightmares whenever she actually slept.

"She's not whimpering or crying out now," Nik pointed out.

"She's not asleep right now. Are you, Princess?" At that name Gwen couldn't help but smile a little. Aloys was a good humored man and for some reason his attempt to keep using her codename given by the guards was a way of keeping them connected. She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to look at him.

"Would you prefer sleeping drops?" Edric asked Gwen when he saw that Aloys was indeed right. Would she? She wasn't sure she wanted them but she did need sleep.

"A dreamless sleep draught would be best for her. Whatever nightmares she has come back every time. That is if she would permit it." Aloys sighed.

"I can order the healer to bring you something for a dreamless sleep. It might make you feel better," Edric came to her bedside. She was tired but she was afraid of the nightmares. She could try this solution once and then if it worked, she might agree to it more often. She nodded her consent and Edric went to find the healer. The draught left her in an empty, dark place while she slept. Had she been able to dream she would have filled the dark corners with images and sounds. Instead it was simply black and she could do nothing but consider the darkness and recognize that time was passing. When she did wake, she felt better if only slightly so. The healer informed her she could only have the draught every few days in order to make her body not dependent on it. She understood that and went back to resting without sleeping as often as possible in between those.

Somewhere in her nightmares she heard the sound of several voices talking rapidly in congratulations and she realized that something was going on outside of herself but she was unable to break the vision of the guard pressing himself between her legs. She whimpered as she had when he had raped her.

"Has this been going on often?" She heard a voice that split the vision like a ray of sunshine in the darkness.

"Only when she sleeps without the draught." Came the reply. There was a moment and then she heard three raised voices.

"No don't touch her!"

"She can't stand being touched," the vision was taking over again. The light that had split it was dissipating. She was almost back facing the guard when she felt something warm and comfortable settle against her cheek.

"Shh, it's alright Gwen. You're safe now." The voice that was full of light held her free of the nightmares. She clung to it and the warmth of whoever's hand it was against her cheek. "You won't mind if we have our healer look her over. His Majesty was worried about her traveling in this condition so he sent his Chief Royal Healer and the Chief Royal Healer's son. Your Highness and Sir Nikolas have both met Sir Nealan."

"She's not whimpering anymore. Princess, are you awake?" That was Aloys, she could place him after his use of the name. But she wasn't really awake. She was still locked in sleep though semiconscious. "She didn't flinch away from you either. She does that even in her sleep," Aloys commented.

"Good, we shall keep that in mind," came another voice. She felt someone else touch her shoulder and a familiar Gift sink under her skin. After a moment she heard a hiss of pity. "No wonder she isn't gaining strength or healing. Neal, come here, I want you to know what the marks of magical torture look like and how they are healed."

"Magical torture?" She heard Aloys ask. "I didn't even know they were capable of that."

"Perhaps that's the day she stopped being able to move or talk," came another familiar voice. She believed it might be Nik.

"Gwen, if you can hear me, I'm going to try and reduce the pain of this as much as possible but you'll still feel pain," she knew Baird's voice now. "Afterwards you'll feel much better."

"Perhaps, Fal, you should hold her. Comfort her. You can't really hold just her hands," that voice had to be Neal.

"That would be a good idea. She obviously is comforted by you," Baird offered. She felt a pressure on the side of the bed and then she was completely enveloped in warmth. She felt like nothing in the world could harm her. That feeling carried her through the icy burn that was creeping through her veins, heart, lungs, and extremities. It felt like little needles of ice penetrating where fire had once been. After sometime the ice ebbed away from her and she let herself fall into true sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Hello readers! I'm so amazed with every review I receive. I am honored and humbled by your words of encouragement and your praise. I am motivated by your questions and critiques. I ask that you please continue to read and review. I appreciate everything you guys do.**

She did not dream of tortures or rape. She did not dream of pain or twisted images brought on by the hallucinogenic drug that had been forced on her. She simply dreamed of the things she had managed to hold in her mind when her torturers had started asking questions. She dreamed of her first time shooting a bow and of childhoods in the forest surrounding Merrywood. She dreamed of Roald and working quietly alongside of him in his study on paperwork and while the two of them training in the practice courts. She dreamed of Faleron and the moment he had stepped closer to her when they had first danced and the rush it had caused in her heart. She dreamed of singing bawdy songs with the soldiers at Fort Drell and of gambling with them. She simply dreamed and when she finally woke she rolled over to snuggle something soft closer to her face to breathe in the comforting scent.

"And here I thought the man was mad for bringing his shirt back for her to sleep with when he had to wake up," she heard someone mutter. It didn't sound like Aloys.

"Perhaps there is more to the story of them than you think. I doubt he's just the King's Champion and her mentor by the way he so readily spent the night holding onto her to keep her from having nightmares," that voice belonged to Aloys. She opened bleary eyes to realize she was indeed snuggling up to a shirt that smelled so wonderfully of something, no someone, very familiar, of Faleron. Until this moment she had wondered if her mind had made the whole thing up as some sort of comfort. She let her eyes close again wanting to soak in what comfort it had given her and had lent to her dreams.

"It seems your little trick worked. She's holding that thing closer every time I look up," came a voice as she heard footsteps approaching the doorway.

"Any relief I can give her is a victory," that was Faleron's voice and he was coming closer. She felt a pressure on the side of the bed and his calloused fingers moved to stroke her hair.

"I had hoped you weren't a dream," she whispered against the shirt. The hand stopped very briefly before the task change from running his fingers through her hair to clearing the strands of hair from her face. She opened her eyes again and managed a small smile.

"As if I'd let Roald send anyone else," he told her softly. She realized the talking had stopped and the whole room was quiet, listening. "There's a nice little escort waiting to take you home. Do you feel like you could travel?"

She thought long and hard about her answer. That she should travel in her condition was a laughable folly that only said how desperate Roald was to bring her home. But she had wished for this sort of ridiculous madness. She wanted to tell Faleron that she was certain she could do anything if he was there but that sounded silly and lovesick. Perhaps he would think she had had her brains addled and he'd worry more. Already she could see a few worry lines around his mouth that had not been there before. It was hard to think of answers to his question when he was smiling down at her and her mind focused in on how nice it would be if he would just close the space between them for her and kiss her. This really wasn't the time or place for kissing but she imagined he would do it anyway if she asked. She must have stared up too long because he was starting to frown, making the lines around his mouth deeper. She didn't want to worry him. She needed an answer. What was the question?

"If you don't think you can travel…" she heard Faleron start. Right, travel, that was the question.

"Perhaps riding a horse would be hard," she managed hoping it came off as the sarcastic and witty remarks she was known for.

"Not a horse," Faleron rushed to assure her. "Roald sent a very nice carriage for you. You'll be a proper lady with guards and a warm, soft ride in a carriage," his voice was soft and tender and she very much wished he would just smile again.

"Remind me to tell his Majesty he owes me a bout in the practice courts for the insult," she managed to say, her voice was louder now. Stronger in her ears. Perhaps if her voice was stronger she was getting stronger and she should be able to reach up and pull him down to her. But her fingers were still all individually splinted and her hands wrapped in bandages. She wouldn't be able to grip him for anything. Faleron was smiling now at least.

"You'll need to eat and then I have some of your clothes here for you to wear. I'd like to get moving as soon as possible so we can get you home," Faleron started to move off of the bed but the dismay at his departure must have showed on her face. "I have to go ready the guard," he explained.

"Please, Fal," she begged. She didn't even know exactly what she was begging for. For him to stay a few moments longer? For a kiss? For him to keep talking to her? He was frowning again now and he seemed torn between something before he came back to her side and sat again.

"I really am not supposed to delay, Gwen," he told her softly. "If I can get us moving soon we'll manage to make the border in less than a week. Carriages travel very slow. I'm sure you know that. I'd like to get you home before it gets any colder and snow thinks of falling."

"I can tell your guards she'll be ready to move out within the hour," she heard a voice behind Faleron and she had completely forgotten anyone else was in the room. "And I'll even inform his Grace and Sir Neal that they should prepare too."

"Thank you, Nikolas, I could really use the hand." Faleron turned to look at the other side of the room and she could see Nikolas already leaving and Aloys looking utterly torn before he mumbled some excuse and left the room too. "I'd ask what all of this is about but you've been through enough I shouldn't have to ask." He sighed and looked her over. "I'm supposed to ride with the guard on the way back, but if you want, I'll ride with you in the carriage. No one will question it and I can tell them it's to keep an eye on you if they do. Do you want that?" She nodded afraid to open her mouth and sound like she was begging even more. She feared she was turning into one of those ladies that he despised.

"Here is the meal for the lady. Do you want us to feed her or would you prefer to do it?" The healer hovered with a bowl and spoon by the door.

"I'll do it," he stood only long enough to collect the bowl and returned to her side. When the healer left, he grimaced at the bowl. "Baird asked her to stop with this nonsense," he nodded to the bowl. "The nutrient draught she was using doesn't work as well as it should and the porridge and soup barely have what you need on their own. You don't get enough of what you need from it. I can't say you'll get offered much better until we get home," he lifted the spoon.

"Did," she felt her voice constrict in her throat for a moment as she tried to speak before he could get the spoon to her mouth. "Did his Grace mention if my hands will heal?" She hated being fed and she both hated and was happy Faleron was the one feeding her now. She didn't want to seem any weaker to him than she had already and by the same token, loved that he was the one taking care of her.

"He did," Faleron lowered the bowl. "It will be some time before you have full use of your hands again. We'll have to work them with exercises too once the bones mend and they've only barely begun to mend. So I'm afraid this will be common still for a while," he nodded to the bowl and spoon. "At least from here on out, I'll be here to make it easier." She smiled at him and he raised the spoon again. "Are you going to tell me what exactly you wanted when you were begging just a little bit ago?" He asked after a few quiet moments had passed.

"It's silly," she blushed. The words were coming easier now that the warm porridge was soothing her throat and sating her hunger. "I'm just being silly. You should go ready everything. And you don't have to ride with me," she looked down at the covers on the bed to avoid seeing his face. "I'll probably sleep most of the time anyway."

"I'd rather ride with you, and I'd rather be here with you right now," Faleron told her. "I was so scared that I had admitted my feelings to you and then I had lost you completely so soon." She looked up to see him smiling at her. "I could have jumped over the Vassa in a single leap when I heard you were alive. Gwen, whatever you want, you just have to ask. I'd give you the world if I could."

"Fal," she knew she had to say something now about her loss of virginity before Faleron promised too much. She knew he wasn't exactly like most noblemen who required their ladies to be perfect, but there were lines she didn't know if she had crossed with the help of the guards. "I'm not…" she swallowed hard. "Part of what they did was," her voice caught. Why did this part have to be so hard?

"You don't have to say it," Faleron told her softly. "I already know because your friend Sir Aloys told me. He indicated that might be why you shy away from most touch." He set the bowl down again and cupped her face. "If you want to be mine still then that's the only thing that matters to me." He leaned forward so his lips were a scant inch from hers and his forehead rested against hers. His dark eyes were searching hers. "Do you still want a courtship with me?"

"Yes," Gwen could barely breathe and this time it was simply because Faleron had that sort of effect on her when he got very close. His lips met hers and she remembered exactly what she had been begging for when he had tried to leave. She felt his tongue press against her lips, begging for admittance and she let him move her lips apart and deepen the kiss.

"Woah, I told you there was more to this story," Aloys voice broke them apart. Gwen was panting hard trying to catch her breath that had suddenly abandoned her and Faleron was frowning again.

"Damn it, you should have stopped me," Faleron told her. "You're still too weak for… for…" he blushed.

"For shoving your tongue down her throat?" Nik's voice was a little constricted. Gwen slowly regained her ability to breathe normally but her heart was still racing. She turned her head slightly to see Nik and Aloys standing in the doorway. "Has she finished eating or are you just going to pour it down her throat after you finish jamming your tongue into it?"

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I should have been more controlled," Faleron's blush was deeper.

"I wanted that," she told him still feeling breathless.

"Perhaps," he sighed. "We should finish this and then I'll have the healer help you dress."

"She can have the clothes she's wearing," Edric's voice made Gwen feel a slight burn in her cheeks. That Nik and Aloys had seen her kiss with Faleron was slightly embarrassing but the Prince was a different matter.

"I brought some of her clothes though. I thought it would be a comfort to have her own things," Faleron explained as he lifted the bowl back up and started to help Gwen eat again.

"It seems to be your clothes that comfort her more," Aloys teased.

"I liked you better when you respected me," Gwen turned her stare on Aloys.

"I respect you heaps, Princess. But what's a Louse like me to do when a handsome stranger sweeps in and shows me you're human?" Aloys teased some more. "Nik was coming to tell you that your guard has been alerted and will be ready within the hour."

"Thank you, Nikolas. We'll need to get you settled in that carriage before then," Faleron directed the last part to her. A few minutes later he scooped the last of the porridge from the bowl.

Faleron kissed her forehead once more and assured her he would be nearby before stepping away and taking the other men with him. The healer came in and briskly pulled at the nightgown she had been wearing since she had first woken in the palace. Faleron had left a pile of her own clothes. Loincloth, breastband, breeches, and a shirt all went on one by one. All were loose on her but extremely comfortable. By the time she was completely dressed, her eyes were drooping again. Whatever energy she had gained during sleep had ebbed away already. Faleron was quick to see her drooping eyelids when he stepped in the door with the other men as the healer left. He scooped her into his arms and tossed the shirt he had lent her to sleep with over his other shoulder.

"You rest," he told her. "Neither of us wants to listen to a lecture from Neal about the importance of sleep when you are healing." She let out a breathy laugh at that. He was absolutely right. She managed to stumble through a thank you to Edric, Nik, and Aloys before Faleron carried her from the room. By the time they had passed through the doors that led out of the infirmary she was asleep again.

The motion of the carriage was something she had always hated when she had attended the Convent. There was a bounce-pull-lurch that was often associated with carriages. It wasn't the fault of the horses or the driver. It was simply the design of the carriage. The initial start, the stop, and any changes in speed always left the passengers inside adjusting to stay in their seats properly. Roads weren't always free of ruts, rocks, or broken ground. On a horse, she was always aware of these things and able to adjust as necessary. In the carriage she had no control over the bouncing and thumping that happened in those circumstances. So when she woke, she was immediately aware of the tug she felt on the body of the carriage and the rocking motion that meant the road was uneven. She was also aware of the hard, breathing pillow under her head and the warm down comforter wrapped around her. She shifted to turn and look at Faleron whose chest and shoulder were her pillow and whose arm was locking her in place against him. The arm the wasn't holding her was holding up a book that he was reading in the light that streamed through the only uncovered window on his side of the carriage. Slowly she became aware that they weren't lying sideways in the carriage on one of the seats but rather were lying as if they were on a bed facing the front of the carriage.

"Did Roald have a bed stuffed into a carriage?" Gwen asked when she fully realized what was going on.

"Not exactly," Faleron closed his book and adjusted so he could wrap both arms around her. "This is the carriage that was designed for Queen Lianne, Roald's grandmother. When she was pregnant she didn't want to be left behind when Court moved to the summer palace so this carriage was designed for her. You'll notice it's not fully a bed as there is a cut out for the stairs to go out the door." He nodded to his other side where indeed the bed cut away for a set of three steps down and the door which was also covered by a heavy curtain.

"Any other surprises?" She asked.

"There's a compartment up by our feet that has some food and a few skins full of different drinks." He paused as if thinking for a moment. "And there's a full escort of Third Company waiting on the other side of the border. Our escort in to Tusaine was only one squad of the Own, out of uniform, with Baird and Neal."

"Who was put in charge of this thing?" She waved a hand at their surroundings.

"Dom," she could feel the grin in Faleron's voice. "He volunteered as Captain of Third Company and because his cousin and uncle were going. I think he wanted to make sure they were safe."

"Oh." They fell back into silence.

"Not that I expect you to know but I'm still questioning why you were taken by Tusaine's rebellion. I mean, we expected a ransom maybe to fund their treason but one never came."

"Actually," Gwen remembered the man she had nicknamed Twitch who stood next to Slight often enough. "I think they were paid to kidnap me by a fief in Tortall," she closed her eyes trying to remember anything he had said. "They were hired to extract information from me for an employer in Tortall. There was man that was really anxious whenever I didn't talk. He said something like his employer needed the information before the coronation."

"But you were held after the coronation too," Faleron reminded her.

"Twitch left some time before the coronation. Slight told him that he would still try for information and send it to him. He told Twitch that his employer hadn't told him that I was trained to protect my mind from torture."

"You weren't trained, were you?" Faleron shifted her body so he could look down into her face.

"No, but I think he was saying it so he still got paid." She shivered and instantly the blanket was drawn tighter around her.

"Do you want me to activate the warming charms?" Faleron asked. "Master Numair rigged up some nice ones especially for you."

"No, I'm alright for now." She was alright. She had shivered because she was thinking about Slight still wanting to get paid though he clearly enjoyed torturing her. "After Twitch left, I think," she frowned. "I think Slight still wanted the information. I think he would have used it to force the war with Tortall or, I don't know."

"You'll have to repeat all of this to Sir Myles and likely to Roald again after that," Faleron informed her. "Let's get some more food in you. Give your body something to work with." He shifted to let her head fall onto the pillow behind him and sat up to get at the compartment at their feet. "Some cheese, some fruit, and I even managed to beg some apple cakes for you."

"One day I'm going to get sick of those," she told him.

"Then I'll find out your new favorite," he smiled and shifted back to sit by her with a pile of things on his lap. Unlike the porridge or the soups she was fed, she actually had to chew and work at this food. She worked through grapes, apples, cheese, and a small cake while sipping on fruit juice in between. Before long she was back asleep.

The next two weeks were a slow moving progress first to the border and then on to Corus with a much larger escort. Besides the increased noise outside of her carriage when the full company joined them, very little changed for her inside of the carriage. She slept through most of the travel and what little she was awake, Faleron went out of his way to make her smile. While she was aware he left the carriage often enough to stretch his legs, relieve himself, and to socialize with the other people, he was always there when she woke. She was aware that Baird and Neal both looked in on her often when she slept but it was only to check her progress, not to administer extra healing. While she disliked the carriage, she had to admit it was comfortable enough. Comfortable enough that she was able to sleep right through her arrival into Corus.

**A/N: Hello, again, readers! I wanted to take a moment to address something that was brought up to me. It was suggested that I up my rating from T to M. I did consider this as, yes, I did speak of rape and I did do some description of torture. However, several of these torture methods were taken from Tamora Pierce's own writing, including Battle Magic and Mastiff. I also point to my previous story Being the Godssent in which I described rape in roughly the same amount of detail. I apologize if you feel that my rating is too low for the content, however I do not believe I have written anything a thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen year old couldn't read, comprehend, or hasn't seen before. I'm not fully sure where this story is going as it tends to take its own direction once I start writing. What I can guarantee is that I doubt I can get more violent (it's difficult for me to write it in detail convincingly) and nothing of the sexual nature will be described in further detail than I have put already. If indeed I do feel the need to include more detail, I'm going to take a page from another writer's book on this website: Bebes. If I do wish to elaborate for my more mature minded fans I will include an extended chapter rated appropriately as a separate story. Thank you for your concerns and thank you to the readers I reached out to for advice on this matter.**


	33. Chapter 33

Roald watched from his vantage point on the wall facing the city of Corus. His gaze followed the string of warriors that held a longer and elaborately decorated carriage at its center as they made their way through the streets. The sun was setting and he could see those people in the city that had been making their way home, stop and watch. He wasn't surprised that it was known that the Royal Squire had gone missing but he was surprised to learn that she had such support amongst the commoners of the city and the palace. He heard often from his servants that they were approached by someone else inquiring after the progress of locating and returning her. She would be a great addition to his council once she was healed. Between Kel and Gwen, he would maintain the voice of the commoners and the support of them in the majority of his decisions.

The progress reports coming in from Neal were both encouraging and heart wrenching. When he first described seeing Gwen in the infirmary, whimpering in her sleep and her inability to allow herself to be touched according to those that had been around her were concerning to Roald. That Faleron had been able to stop the whimpering with one simple gesture had been able to not only touch her without her flinching away but crawl in and hold her had been a balm to his heart. When Edric had relayed the request to send her comfort, his first thought had been Faleron followed by her own clothes and how she would be able to travel. As someone who possessed some small ability to heal, Roald was able to fully understand what Neal described Gwen's body to look like from the inside out. The scarring on her heart and lungs and all throughout her body keeping her from healing and gaining any strength had left him unable to sleep. Baird was a blessing in his recognition and healing of those marks and further more by teaching Neal how to recognize and heal them. The reports of her body's progress after those marks were cleared from inside of her body was encouraging. She was gaining weight, not quickly but it was there. Her color was returning. Her hands were mending slowly. Once she was back at the palace there were balms and lotions that would shrink the scars on her back and soothe the healing of her feet. She was eating better, drinking more, getting more restful sleep. These were all good things that were happening much sooner than the estimates Baird had given him.

The only question only Gwen could answer for him now was if she still wanted to try for her shield. She had already undergone enough of an Ordeal that he was worried if she would survive what the chamber would throw at her. He felt it was his duty to discourage her from torturing herself further, but he also felt he couldn't tell her he didn't believe she was strong enough. She was strong, incredibly so. The vision the Chamber of Ordeal had given him had proven to him that Gwen had not broken under torture. She was stronger than most people he knew. He couldn't imagine having that conversation with her. How could he even bring it up? He had asked her once before when she had returned the first time from border patrol and the look she had given him left him convinced he would never have to ask again. But this time he could assure her that she'd stay at the palace, in his employment, and little would change except her title.

He had stayed in contact with her parents and he had no doubts someone would be coming to convince her to come home. He had received notice after it had been confirmed Gwen was traveling home that a room would be required at the palace under the fief of Merrywood. He hoped Gwen would fight as she had once assured him she would when she had first become his squire but he didn't know if she had the mental strength for such a battle. He hadn't told Neal that piece of information in hopes that he wouldn't worry Gwen or Faleron that something was in the wind. Any added anxiety could slow Gwen's progress down. Already she was looking at several months at a minimum to get back into shape to handle her weapons. It could take her the year until her Ordeal to regain most of her strength back. But there was no more time to dwell on that as Third Company started to work their way through the gates.

Roald turned to walk down the steps to his left to go down to the courtyard to meet them. He didn't see Faleron amongst those riding in but he didn't expect to. Neal had told him that Faleron had made his excuses before even leaving the palace in Tusaine that it would be best if Gwen was monitored constantly. While that was true, Roald knew, as well as almost everyone else that saw him with her, that it was just as much for him as it was for her. When the carriage came round in the courtyard Roald wasn't sure what he expected. He knew he was surprised that when the door opened and Faleron stepped out that Gwen wasn't right behind him, trying to move on her own. But then as he realized what he expected, he knew it had been simply idiotic to think she would be in a position to try that yet. Instead Faleron turned on the last step and collected a comforter cocooned Gwen.

"She's out like a snuffed candle," Faleron told him when Roald came in to welcome her home. Faleron shifted and Roald saw a slightly better version of the woman he had seen in the Chamber of Ordeal. Her face was thin, her skin pale but not translucent, there was a strand or two of white in her hair, and overall she appeared just smaller. "I'd like to get her out of the cold. Where is she going? The infirmary? Her room?" Faleron adjusted the blanket up around her face to protect her from the wind.

"Her rooms. I want home, not to have to be moved again and again." Roald had briefly considered asking Faleron if he would prefer putting her in his rooms but he already knew the answer and wanted Gwen to have her own space too should she need it and he really didn't want to have to move her again. He wanted her to settle in and be some place she could call home. Faleron nodded his acknowledgement but he still waited and Roald realized after a moment he was waiting to be dismissed. While little had changed amongst his inner circle once he had been crowned, he noticed there was still a hesitancy to slight him. "What are you waiting for? She's been in your care, do what you said was best for her," he made a shooing motion and Faleron grinned.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you with my respect, Your Majesty," Faleron laughed and turned to take Gwen inside.

"So how were Edric and Nikolas? I've been talking to Edric in the mirror but you know how people are. Royalty especially," Roald followed him.

"His Highness was concerned for her, certainly. They seem to have squashed their rebellion but he isn't sure how Gwen fits in to the equation. Gwen had some ideas on that. Nikolas on the other hand," Faleron shrugged. "His brother was with Gwen in the dungeons and he seemed a bit protective of her."

"How so?" Roald fought back a small smile. Nikolas had turned Gwen down when she had shown how independent and strong she was by wearing breeches and by being forward with him. He had wondered if Nikolas had become aware of the mistake he had made.

"He saw us kissing," Faleron explained. "He became a bit hostile after that. I suspect he saw her as vulnerable and forgot all of the reasons that she was left to have dinner alone."

"So Gwen has an idea of why she was taken for a rebellion in Tusaine?" Roald latched onto what Faleron had said before.

"I think they said more around her than they meant for her to hear simply because she wasn't supposed to live or ever be released. But I'll let her tell you what she remembers. I'd ask Sir Myles to sit in when she tells you so she doesn't have to repeat it again." Faleron readjusted her body so that her head nestled in against his shoulder better.

"Neal said they did some magic torture spells on her. Is she damaged more than physically? Should I be looking into a soul healer?" Roald knew soul healers existed though most of them joined the ranks of priests and priestesses in the City of the Gods.

"There was a moment when I tried to step away to ready the guards, after the healing, she begged me for she doesn't even know what. I thought it was to stay with her but then she shook herself out of it a few minutes later and told me she had been silly and should go about getting the guard ready. I worried she might have been damaged." Faleron sighed.

"Now, you know better?" Roald asked.

"I don't know. She sleeps most of the time. When she's awake sometimes it feels like she's far away and other times she's right here making jokes and sarcastic comments. I'll just be happy when she can do things for herself again."

"Getting sick of carrying her around and feeding her?" Roald felt himself getting protective.

"No, not at all so don't look at me like that," Faleron wasn't even looking at Roald but he wasn't surprised Faleron knew him well enough to feel the glare. "I just know she hates it and I think it will help her to feel better to be able to move around on her own and not have to wait for someone to be available to feed her." The continued the rest of the walk in silence until they made it to Gwen's rooms. Her doors had been replaced with new ones and renewed alarm spells. When Faleron went to lay Gwen down on the bed he smiled at Roald. "You listened to me about her bed."

"Yes, I replaced the mattress. She never complained about it being too hard," Roald rolled his eyes. When Faleron had discovered Gwen was alive, he had made a request that her mattress be replaced with a softer one. Roald had first been taken aback by the request but then when he had gone to see what Faleron had meant he found Gwen's bed was actually fairly hard. Knowing what he did about her condition, he found a replacement because she needed comfort.

"She wouldn't complain. She doesn't complain to you about anything short of you sending her away from guarding you. I told her I'd complain for her," Faleron grinned. "I kept my word."

"Remind me again why you know how hard her bed is? If I remember correctly you only declared yourself after she was no longer allowed in this room for door replacement." Roald turned to look at his friend. He doubted that Faleron and Gwen had had any sort of romantic relationship before that moment because Gwen wasn't a good liar about her feelings for Faleron.

"I've only sat on it. Once when checking in on her right when Aurelia first showed up and again when I asked her to accompany me to the ball this year. Until this attack on her, Gwen was a maiden. And yes, I told you we shared a bed at the fort a couple of times but sleeping was all that happened. I respect her more than that. And I've been completely honest with you. Didn't you push us together?"

Roald tried to think of a smart response to tease Faleron with but Gwen let out a small groan. As Faleron unwrapped the comforter from her body to properly tuck her under her own covers. After a moment her eyes began to twitch and then fluttered open. She blinked up at Faleron and then her gaze drifted around the room and finally to Roald.

"Your Majesty," she smiled at him. "Congratulations. I'm so proud of you." Roald felt his heart constrict. The image of her from the Ordeal held him. Faleron moved out of his way as he moved to sit down by Gwen and scoop her up into a hug. Something white went by his head and then he felt her arms close around him too.

"Don't ask, but I know what you went through. I know. I'm sorry. I'm so proud of you. I'm so sorry," he moved back to look into her pale face. Her blue eyes were huge.

"Whatever are you sorry for?" She whispered. "You didn't do it."

"I'm sorry that I told you and Faleron to go. I thought you would be safer outside of the palace. I'm sorry I couldn't go after you. I'm sorry I couldn't be there to come and get you, to bring you home. I'm sorry you were put in that situation. I'm sorry…" a thickly bandaged hand went over his mouth and he could feel the splints on each finger. He continued to mumble muffled apologies into her hand.

"Roald," he stopped when he heard his name on her lips. She had never forgone his title though he had given her permission in the very beginning. "None of this is your fault," she took her hand away. "Perhaps I should go back to Merrywood. I can heal up and return when I'm better and you won't look at me like I'm frail as glass."

"No!" Roald heard his own voice echoed and looked back to see Faleron biting down on a knuckle to keep himself from saying more. "I want you here. I need you here. If you don't want to carry on as my squire, then I'll employ you on my council."

"If I don't want to be a squire…" she seemed to be turning the words over in her mind. "I can still be your squire?"

Roald stared at her. She seemed so genuinely shocked she could remain a squire. Here he had been worried about this conversation and she had not even considered she could be a squire anymore. "Of course you can still be a squire. We'll have to get you trained back up for your Ordeal in a year if you choose. But if you choose to not try for your shield, these rooms are still yours and I'm still going to abuse your loyalty to me by making you do paperwork."

"Sir Neal did warn you long ago that all rewards from the Crown came with more and more work," Faleron finally seemed to have gotten himself under control enough to put in his two coppers. "Gwen, you should really consider this. I'm not saying that you wouldn't make it through your Ordeal but I think you've have enough trials that threaten your life."

"I'll think about it," she looked between the two of them and Roald really believed that Gwen would seriously consider what her future should hold. Either way she chose he really hoped he had squashed any thought of her returning home to spare him.

"But if you still want to return to Merrywood because it's what you really want…" Roald noticed the glare Faleron was giving him. He knew he had to allow Gwen that option too even though he really didn't want her to take it. "Someone from your family is coming. I don't know who. I doubt it would be Aurelia sent to check in, but should you decide you'd rather be at Merrywood I can lend you that carriage for the trip."

"I love Merrywood," Gwen explained. "It's so beautiful even in the winter and it's relaxing." He saw Faleron turn away out of the corner of his eye, likely trying to protect Gwen from his wishes.

"I understand, Court life isn't exactly a good healing environment," Roald felt his heart squeeze again. She wanted to go home. She wanted to leave.

"Perhaps when I am healed I'll be able to take you both for a visit," she said finally.

"You know I'd find time to come visit you. And I'm sure Fal would demand some leave to go and dote on you." Roald smiled at her.

"Of course I'd beg time to visit you," Faleron turned back to face Gwen.

"I meant," Gwen rolled her eyes. "I meant the three of us go for a visit when I am healed. Until then I very much like it here." Roald took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he realized she meant to stay. She wouldn't leave before she was healed at least and then he had time to convince her to stay on staff. He could see that Faleron was relieved and was moving to sit on Gwen's other side.

"I'll visit your home with you whenever you want. I should meet your parents at some point to beg a formal courtship from them." He moved an arm around her back to support her while she sat and kissed her temple.

"Will your mother approve of a formal courtship with me?" Gwen asked.

"She'll get through it." Faleron cupped her face.

"Well, dear Gwen, I think I'll take my leave so you can settle in and rest. I expect to see you progress in your healing quickly." Roald patted her knee and then rose to go to the door.

There was a pause and then he heard Gwen's voice rise again, "Did you change out my bed?"


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: I feel the need to warn that those who are exceptionally susceptible to violence in my writing that they may want to skip over the italicized writing in the middle of this chapter. It contains slightly (very slightly) more elaborated versions of the tortures. Thank you.**

Two weeks to Midwinter saw Gwen strong enough to get out of bed but not go very far. She could take herself to the privy but with her hands still bandaged it was embarrassingly hard. With her hands splinted and bandaged, she couldn't use the bath so she had to have a female healer sent up by Baird come and help her clean up with a basin of water. Faleron was always there at meal times to make sure he was the only one to help her with her meals. She was now able to hold a tall cup between her palms and drink without help and had developed a similar method for bowls of cooled soup or porridge when that was part of her meal. But those options were rare as she found Baird's plan for her diet consisted of a variety of vegetables, fruits, and lots of meat. The meat, he explained, held the protein she needed to regain her muscle. Sometimes Roald joined her in the afternoons after Faleron had left to do other duties, and sat with her to read to her or hold some sort of lesson.

"How are you sleeping at night?" Roald asked one afternoon when he found her sitting at her desk rather than in bed. It was the furthest she had walked while alone in her suite.

"Alright," she didn't admit that the nightmares were more present than ever after she had returned to the palace.

"Fal stays with you until you fall asleep, doesn't he?" Roald asked as he selected a book from her shelves.

"Yes," she knew Roald was aware of that arrangement. But Faleron only stayed until she was asleep. He laid in her bed with her, let her settle in against him, and then read until she was asleep. Then he inched out from under her and left. After the first night of waking up shortly after he left, she had asked him why he left. The answer in short, was that he was making an attempt at preserving her reputation but it had taken nearly fifteen minutes for him to get to that point. She guessed that Roald had possibly asked that he not share her bed. She didn't like that Faleron was her answer to keeping the nightmares away. It meant she was dependent on him. It meant that she would admit to him that she was just as clingy as any of the ladies he had wanted to avoid.

"You look tired," Roald informed her. "Perhaps you should take a nap instead of listening to me read for the afternoon." He put the book back on the shelf.

"When will I talk to you and Sir Myles about what happened?" She inquired. She knew they had been delaying until she was strong enough but it was another weight on her mind.

"In a few days," Roald informed her. "We're waiting for Baron George to come back to the palace from Pirate's Swoop. He'll be here for Midwinter." She pushed her chair back and stood. Roald was watching closely but he maintained his distance. Slowly she worked her way around the desk and turned to walk through the open door to her bedroom. She heard Roald a few steps behind. "Why don't you get into bed and I'll stay until you're asleep."

She sat down on the bed and kicked off the slippers that were supposed to help her feet be less tender. She slipped under the covers and waited for Roald to take up the chair by the bed. She was tired but she doubted she'd sleep. She had woken the moment Faleron had left the night before and had laid there in silence, listening to him sneak across the floor through the door and then after another few moments, listening to the door to the hallway close. She had laid awake hoping sleep would return but her mind was replaying what information she knew and subsequently the tortures again. Perhaps that was why Roald was worried about her sleep. She hadn't looked in the mirror since the day before, perhaps she had dark circles under her eyes. Roald opened a book on his lap and started to read while she settled in against the pillows.

The sound of paper rustling as Roald turned the pages every so often was relaxing enough. It reminded her of Faleron reading while she was falling asleep against him. She dozed but didn't sleep. Each page turn was registered in her mind and each time Roald shifted in his seat was noted. She heard the door open to her sitting room and the footsteps she was familiar with.

"She's sleeping?" Faleron asked.

"I doubt it," Roald replied. Of course he hadn't left because he knew she wasn't actually asleep. "She walked as far as her study today, and back again without help."

"Good, we'll aim for the sitting room next week, then the dining room," Faleron sat down on the edge of her bed. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. She didn't want him worried either. "I brought dinner for her." His hand started on its usual path through her hair and then across her cheek and jaw while one thumb traced over her lips. "I know you aren't sleeping. You don't fake all of that well." She let herself smile internally. She had pretended the night before and he hadn't noticed. But now she let her eyes open. "Will you tell me why your eyes are puffy and dark?" She raised her shoulders and let them drop in a shrug.

"I happen to know you don't lie, you just sit there in silence," Roald circled into her view. "It alerts us that you're hiding something." She raised an eyebrow in response.

"Dinner and then you're coming right back here to sleep," Faleron pushed the covers back and helped her up only enough to lift her up. He carried her to the dining room and sat her down at the table. "Work on that." Faleron pointed to the bowl of thick soup in front of her. Then he closed the door so he and Roald could talk without her in the sitting room. Through the door she could make out the muffled rise and fall of their voices but no distinct words.

It would do her no good straining to hear them so she applied herself to the soup. It was a good soup, thick creamy base with potato so cooked down that it didn't need to be chewed. She could see small pieces of carrot also cooked to mush as well as a few leeks. It tasted alright but its flavor was heavy. She reached for the cup that was filled likely with some sort of juice and missed slightly. Before she could catch it, the cup tipped and spilled the liquid all over the table. She knew a few choice curse words and let them slip as she stood to try and find a cloth to clean up the spill.

"I'll get it," Faleron pressed her back into her chair. She hadn't heard the door open but the man always seemed to know when she was about to push her limits.

"Where did his Majesty go?" She asked when Faleron poured her another cup.

"He'll be back. He went to go order up a few more things for you," Faleron sat down opposite of her. "What are you hiding, Love?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." She wasn't going to admit she was weak.

"Alright then," Faleron settled in to his seat.

By the time she was finished with her soup and her juice, Roald had returned with a small tray of apple cakes. She knew there was something up. Roald didn't just bring cakes to her room especially after having private conversations on the other side of the door from her.

"How thoughtful," she smiled at both Roald and Faleron. She expected a sleeping draught based on what she did know and let Faleron feed her one of the cakes. Halfway through the first cake her eyes were drooping. She didn't blame them. She would have done, and had done the same thing in the situation. "You're not going to let me fall asleep at the table, are you?" She asked when her eyelids became hard to raise again.

"Not at all," she heard Faleron mutter. "I bet she knew the moment you brought those cakes through the door."

_The cell floor was hard under her body. Footsteps in the distance told her that someone was coming. The cell door clanked open and hard hands wrapped around her arms in a bruising grip. She was yanked up by her arms and she kicked out trying to fight to be let go. The bruising grip readjusted and she was shaken violently before she was hauled out of the cell and the door slammed shut behind them. A few moments later they were in the torture room. Slight stood before her and her guard threw her down in the chair and strapped her in hard enough to cut off her circulation. She could see Slight's lips moving but she didn't hear words. She didn't need to hear his words. His twenty-three questions were ingrained in her mind. The mage with the ugly brown Gift stood beside her now and she saw the fire spark in his hands. It was like white hot wire being run through her veins. She screamed out as the needles of fire penetrated each vein and nerve in her body. Her eyes were still locked on Slight's face. He was still asking questions but the mage never stopped the spell. Her legs were bound down but they wanted to curl up into her. Her arms were strapped to the armrests but they wanted to come to her chest. She wanted to curl into a ball for whatever reason it was. She screamed as the pain reached new levels of intensity and kept on screaming._

"Gwen, oh Goddess, Gwen please wake up!" She heard a voice cut through the dreams for a moment but they roped her back in.

_She was sitting at the table in the torture room with her arms strapped down and her fingers locked in the thumbscrews. Again Slight sat before her and the guard twisted the handle at the top of the thumbscrews to make the device tighten. The metal closed on her thumbs first and she felt the pain as the teeth of the metal bit down on her. She bit her lip as the bones in her thumbs snapped. She let out a screech. Next her index fingers were put inside the device and again it was twisted down until she felt the audible snap resound in her body. She jerked trying to get away. Again with her middle fingers. Her ring fingers. Her little fingers. Snap. Snap. Snap._

"Gwendolyn, you need to wake up," a stern voice broke through. She wanted to obey. She wanted to wake up but the dreams dragged her back down.

_She was lying sideways on the table with her legs dangling off. Her clothes were missing. The guard stood above her and she felt his member pressing between her legs. His almost bone breaking hold on her arms kept her pinned to the table as he threw himself into her. The table rocked with each thrust. She felt a sharp pain with each thrust and tried to bite off her cries of pain. Then her guard stepped away and she saw him wave to someone else. Another guard turned her over so her stomach rested on the table and pressed her face down into the wood of the table. She prayed her neck would snap under the pressure on it._

"Wake her up, dammit!" She heard someone yell. Green light flashed behind her eyelids.

_The vile looking liquid tasted nearly as awful as she had thought it would. Its taste was covered by the burn that coated her tongue and slid down her throat and up into her nose. She was carried away, tossed down in the dark on the hard ground and the door slammed shut again. An image appeared in the dark, a pale and sickly skeleton reaching out for her, dripping blood from its bones. It reached out and she felt its cold finger draw a line down her jaw and then close around her neck. She gasped out. It let go and the image changes to a demon with far too many teeth biting at her arm. She felt its teeth sink in and screamed as she swore it ripped a hole in her arm. The image changed again to a tauros standing above her, its barbed member swinging over her. She wanted to crawl away but her body was still useless from the magical torture. It crouched down over her._

"Got it," she heard as the tauros above her disappeared to be replaced by the canopy above her bed. Her breathing was fast and shallow and her heart was racing. This was the effect the nightmares had one her. "Shh, it's alright, Gwen, you're awake now." She turned to look up and for a brief moment her mind showed her the white lighted torture room with Slight, Twitch, and her guard watching her. Then she blinked and she saw Neal standing over her with Faleron hovering behind and several palace guards in livery peering in from the study. Both Neal and Faleron were dressed for sleep. Looking behind them she saw it was dark outside still. She slowly became aware that the bed was trembling under her and she connected it to her body shaking. There were tears forming in her eyes.

"I don't believe we need guards anymore," Neal turned to show the guards away. "Thank you for your service." The guards left. "You said it was a sleeping draught?"

"Roald went to request it from the infirmary," Faleron's voice was shaking. "Nikolas told me that she slept fine with the draught in Tusaine. They said she didn't have the nightmares then."

"If it was a dreamless draught, I'm sure she did," Neal sighed. "Our healers don't hand those out unless they are specifically requested. I'm guessing she has been avoiding sleep because of the nightmares and the draught just locked her in with them."

"Stay with her a moment, please," Faleron walked out of the room without waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you awake sooner," Neal looked down at her, his green eyes full of genuine regret. "To counteract a sleeping draught, you have to know exactly which draught was given. There are a few different ones of varying strength we use at the palace. If it had been one of my potions I would have known it instantly. You tell Roald if he wants you to sleep with help from a potion, he should come find me. That way, if you wake up the whole hall screaming I can make it stop faster. Or really, just give you the correct draught." Her breathing wasn't quite at normal yet and the tears were burning her eyes but had not released down her cheeks yet. "Would you like to be spelled back asleep?"

"No, don't," Faleron returned with a bundle under one arm. "Please don't even consider putting her through that again." He set the bundle down on the chair. "You can go back to bed now. I'm staying with her." Neal didn't wait for any other words from Faleron. He did snuff out the candles on his way out. Faleron waited a few moments and then crawled into her bed and wrapped his arms tight around her. She could feel he was trembling too. "I'm sorry, Love, I thought it would help."

"I thought it would too," she breathed out, her own voice watery. Speaking out loud brought the tears to their brink and they burned down her cheeks.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm not leaving," Faleron held her closer as she cried. Neither of them slept until predawn brought light through the windows. Their sleep was short lived as Roald entered the suite shortly after breakfast with several visitors. Gwen could hear them talking in the sitting room before Roald came back to grab her. Whatever he expected, Gwen was certain it was not her and Faleron completely entwined under the covers.

"Gwen, your father and sister are here," Roald explained when he saw Gwen was awake. She nodded and tried to extract herself from Faleron's hold. He woke and pulled her back.

"Tell them it's not a good time. She needs to rest," Faleron snapped.

"They're her family," Roald tried to reason but he must have seen Gwen red, puffy eyes and the tear tracks down her face.

"Ask your night guards. Ask anyone in this hallway. Now is not a good time." Faleron nuzzled her temple.

"Alright, we'll put this off," Roald raised his hands in defeat. He left the door open and walked through her study back out to the sitting room. "Gwen had a rough night. We'll have to delay this until she is better rested."

"I have a right to see my daughter," Gwen heard her father's voice raise. She felt Faleron shift out from under her and tucked the blankets around her. He moved to sit in the chair by the bed and waited. "She has laid her life down for you time and again and my wife and I have sat idly by and let her do it because you are our King and she seems to believe that protecting you is her calling." The voice was coming closer. "You told us she was recovering well enough that we could visit this morning." Gwen stayed curled into the pillow that faced Faleron. The dark circles under his eyes were just as prevalent as she guessed hers might be. "And who is back here saying that it is a bad time for us to see her."

"I am, My Lord," she saw Faleron stand from the chair and bow. His breeches and shirt were rumpled.

"And you are?"

"That's Sir Faleron of King's Reach," she heard Aurelia whisper.

"And why would Sir Faleron of King's Reach be telling me if I can or cannot see my daughter?" Came the voice that Gwen knew well. She could have warned Faleron it was a trap but she was sure he already knew.

"My Lord, as I'm sure you are not aware, my suite is next door. I was in a position last night to be awoken when your daughter started to scream and wake up the entire hall because she was locked in torture induced nightmares by a sleeping draught His Majesty and myself gave her due to her lack of sleep. Had she been honest with us about why she wasn't sleeping I'm sure we would have thought better of the draught. She has not slept since and needs rest for her body to heal. She was only starting to fall back asleep when His Majesty escorted you in to her suite." Gwen didn't dare look at her father. She didn't want to see his face when his trap failed. Really it wasn't meant to be laid out for that sort of information.

"And why…" her father started.

"Why did I stay after she was woken from the nightmares? Why did I feed her the sleeping draught when it became apparent she wasn't sleeping in the first place? I've been placed in charge of your daughter's care." She saw Faleron standing straighter.

"Why would the King's Champion be ordered to and agree to play nursemaid to my daughter?" Gwen knew that tone too. Her father wasn't stupid.

"I had meant to approach you a little more gracefully and tactfully than this, My Lord, but Gwen and I have been involved in a romantic relationship since Midsummer. When I went to fetch her from Tusaine I made it my plan to ask for a formal courtship from you and your wife when the time was right," he bowed his head, the picture of innocent intentions.

"You turn down one daughter and then take the other?"

"Truthfully," Faleron began. "I believe by the time I met your beautiful daughter Aurelia, that I was already falling in love with Gwen. I did the noble thing and let Aurelia know I could not pursue a relationship with her but I did not speak of my feelings for Gwen because I was not fully aware of them. You'll notice it took almost six more months for me to approach her on the subject of a relationship."

"And you say as her nursemaid or as her lover that now is not a good time?" Gwen heard her father ask.

"It's not a good time, Papa," Gwen turned to look at him. "Really. I'm not ready to," she felt the tears burning back at the corners of her eyes. She wasn't ready to battle him and Aurelia on all fronts. She wanted to stay. She wanted to stay working for Roald though she had yet to give an answer as a squire or as an advisor. She wanted to stay with Faleron. She didn't want to deal with her sister on the Faleron front or with her father on staying at the palace. She looked up at her father and felt the tears burning new tracks down her face. He looked older, his dark hair streaked with white and gray while his brown eyes were lined with more wrinkles than she could ever remember him having. He wore his Merrywood tunic with sensible black breeches and black boots. Behind him she could see Aurelia peering around with a glare. "Don't go turning on him. Fal's just trying to protect me." She felt her lips tremble.

"Am I so threatening that you need guards from your own father?" He asked, his voice so much softer than it had been. He came forward and sat down on the bed as he had done a thousand times over when she was a child. She sat up and let him gather her into his arms.

"I don't want to go home," she cried. She felt him tense and then relax.

"I would never ask it of you, darling. I know you believe your place is here but you cannot blame your father for wanting to see his baby girl when he hears everything she has gone through." He sighed. "Now is not a good time, I can see that. Perhaps Sir Faleron would be so kind as to resume the position he was in before I came into the room so you can sleep comfortably." He pulled back and stood up again. She wasn't surprised her father was aware that Faleron had been in bed with her. He wasn't wearing boots or slippers of any kind. "We'll be here all Midwinter. I'd like to spend some time with you over the holiday. And Sir Faleron," his voice became less soft as he went towards the door. "You and I shall discuss this courtship before I leave. Come Aurelia. No need to glare at her like that. She had no control over his affections." Gwen heard a huff before hurried footsteps followed.

"I should have stayed in the bed," Faleron groaned as he let himself back under the covers.

"He appreciated that you pretended you hadn't been in my bed," Gwen wiped at the tears.

"Then I hope our conversation goes well. Until then, you and I have both missed out on some sleep."

"I'll see to it that no one else disturbs you two for a while," Roald announced from the door. "I'm not condoning this in the least, but Fal, if you wish to do this in the future, I'll turn a blind eye." Gwen couldn't see what motion Roald was making as he said 'this' but she guessed he was waving at them in the bed. "Unless she says she'd rather not be a squire anymore, she's still my squire and still under my protection."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Faleron murmured and laid back with her. "No matter what you answer," he told her when Roald was gone. "Squire or no, I won't be able to sleep without you for a long time." She smiled into his shirt. Here she had thought he was in her bed to make her feel better. It had never occurred to her that he needed reassurances too. It was something she'd have to consider later when sleep didn't sound like such a good idea.


	35. Chapter 35

When Roald had told Gwen they were simply waiting for Baron George before they interviewed her about what had happened to her and what he knew, he had meant they were simply waiting for George. But this was starting to get out of hand and he knew it was starting to look like a trial rather than simply picking her brain. He had meant to have her sit in her sitting room and talk but now they had outgrown that. Now they were in one of the conference rooms that meetings with diplomats were often held in.

Gwen and Faleron would be the last to arrive at this rate and he knew that was to be expected. Gwen wanted to walk more, to push herself more, and Faleron was letting her but it was likely she would only make it so far before he had to carry her. Sir Myles and Baron George Cooper were already in the room setting up with a clerk to take notes. Then Faleron had asked to be there and that was reasonable. He was coming as support for Gwen. After Faleron had asked, it had been brought up to him that his council would benefit from the exercise of figuring out if Gwen had any real information and how it applied to the Crown. So now Lord Raoul was present with his three captains, Neal was present, Kel was present, Commander Evin Larse was present with his second in command. Lord Padraig sidled into the room after most of the people were sitting. Then Gwen's father, Lord Baron Willard of Merrywood, found his way into the room. This had been a point of contention between Gwen and her father that Roald had supported Gwen's side on. She didn't want him there because she didn't need him to hear everything. But he had insisted, as her father, that he be involved and there was little anyone could say to that. Aurelia had decided she did not need to be in such meetings and Roald had arranged for her to join Shinko for the afternoon.

The door opened again and Faleron stepped in with Gwen on his arm. Her steps were slow but determined as she came into the room. Roald had not warned her about the extra people in the room but she looked around and he recognized the resigned look on her face. She knew this was a battle she wouldn't win if she brought it up.

"Squire Gwendolyn," Myles stood and went to take her hands. "It is good to see you are up and moving around, though I trust you didn't walk that whole way."

"She did actually," Faleron cut across. "She's gaining her strength back quickly."

"That is good. And I see your hands are unbound. Are you enjoying having use of them again?" Roald saw Gwen smile at the question. Her hands had been cleared to be unbandaged and unsplinted only two days before. He and Faleron had sat through the whole afternoon with her and Baird as Baird had explained the exercises she needed to do to ease the stiffness and rebuild the muscle and flexibility in her hands properly. Faleron was given a balm that was to be applied each night to ease any aches. It was similar to the balms for her back and feet that made the scars shrink and eased tenderness.

Roald missed her answer as a servant came in and asked him which type of beverage he would like. Once everyone was served, Gwen sat down facing everyone except Faleron who, having heard some of this before, sat beside her and held one of her hands between his.

"Alright, Squire Gwendolyn, start from the beginning. Start with the attack while you were on patrol at Fort Drell," Sir Myles gave her an encouraging smile. Roald watched as her eyes slid closed and wondered if perhaps the walk had worn her out too much.

"There was a copse of oak and ash trees at the turn around point in our patrol. It wasn't very big but I suppose it could have concealed thirty men and their horses just fine," she walked through the entire attack until her helmet was ripped off and she was clubbed in the back of the head. She moved then to the description of her cell, the meeting of 'Louse', and the meals.

"The guard came after the first meal was done. He carried me down the hall approximately five hundred feet. The room that I was taken to was harshly lit with white mage lights so I was blinded right away. There was a man there, I called him Slight because he was slender. He seemed to be in charge. Beside him and the guard there was an anxious man wearing blue and green livery, no device."

"And what did you call him?" Roald heard someone ask.

"Twitch. He was simply just there until after," she paused. After a long moment she described how she was strapped to the table and the speech that had been given about being comfortable if she would only answer the questions. "Twenty-three questions." She announced before anyone could ask. "What were the plans for Roald's coronation? Where are Roald's private apartments? What are the names of Roald's personal servants? How many guards does Roald have? Where is the Royal Nursery? How often do the royal children spend in the nursery? Which tea does Roald drink at night? What time does Roald's breakfast get delivered? Would Roald take a mistress? What are the names of those in Roald's personal council? Does Roald have alarm spells on his doors? Does Roald wear protective spells? Does Roald sleep with guards at his door? Does Roald interact often with the guards in his royal wing? Where does Roald ship his wine in from? Where are the passages in and out of Roald's study? Does someone check Roald's mail for traps? Does Roald have the Dominion Jewel? Does the Jewel work for Roald? How strong is Roald's gift? Does Roald wear armor under his clothes? How many warriors are in residence at the palace? Which group of warriors is in charge of protecting during the coronation?" She stopped and took a deep breath.

Roald blinked once, twice, three times. The questions sounded so random but at the same time he could see how each one could be used to end him or gain information about a larger attack on the palace. Looking around he could see the same connections being made on everyone else's face.

"After the questions, Twitch panicked because I hadn't broken." She screwed up her face. "'She didn't talk. My employer needs her to talk. We need that information. You promised us we'd get information. When we hired you, you said you'd get us information.' Then Slight added, 'It's only the first day, relax. Today was the easiest. She'll break eventually.'" She opened her eyes for a moment. "I don't know for certain but I don't believe that his employer was from Tusaine. Just my personal opinion." She closed her eyes again and walked through the next few tortures. Rather than repeat the questions again she simply called them 'The Questions' and kept going. She went through the descriptions of the thumbscrews, the rod, the whip, and hesitantly she touched on the rape by the guards.

"Wait," she heard someone interrupt. "Slight wasn't there to question you?"

"No, just the guards. I—I don't know exactly if it was anything more than reward for the guards, another way to punish me for not answering questions, or if Slight even knew it had happened. I want to believe he knew because he seemed to know most of what went on in the dungeons." Roald saw Gwen's grip on Faleron's hand tighten until her fingers were white and he could see the slight tremor.

"How many guards?" Roald heard the question and saw Gwen lower her head and shake it.

"I don't know. I couldn't… didn't… count." Her voice had changed to something that sounded smaller, weaker, far more vulnerable than it had been before.

"I think a break is in order," Roald stood to interrupt any other questions. "Gwen, there's an antechamber off of this one if you'd like to take a moment." She nodded her understanding but didn't look up from the floor. Eventually Faleron took the initiative and took her away.

"The coloring on the livery," Raoul mentioned after a moment. "There are several fiefs in Tortall with those colors but no one that's active at court."

"My neighbor, Fief Deerwood, has those colors," Baron Willard announced. "The current lord has very conservative leanings but he never seemed the type to do something like this."

"We'll add it to our list," Myles nodded to the clerk.

"How accurate do you think her memory is? She was tortured. Perhaps her mind was a bit addled? False information planted?" The Captain of First Company asked.

"I doubt Gwen would be so certain," Myles nodded to the empty chairs. "The only way I believe she'd relay false information about this is if the man she called Twitch worn different livery to throw her off."

"She's had a long enough break, don't you think?" That was the Captain of Second Company. Roald felt Gwen could take all of the time she needed but he understood that everyone else likely had other duties to attend to yet in the afternoon and they were only partway through. He went to the doorway that led to the antechamber and pressed the door open a few inches to glance in. Faleron was holding Gwen against him and was kissing her fairly intimately and passionately. She was clutching at the back of his shirt to keep herself steady.

"Eh hem," Roald cleared his throat. Normally he wouldn't break them apart when Gwen clearly needed some sort of distraction but he had a room full of people waiting to hear the rest of Gwen's story. They didn't startle apart like he thought they would. Instead Faleron pulled back slowly, continuing to give her small kisses as he moved his body away to let her up from the chair she had been in. "We need Gwen to finish her story now," Roald explained when both of them looked to him. Faleron stood and helped Gwen to her feet. When she was seated again, Roald saw her close her eyes again and knew she was trying to remember what came next.

"I was brought back to the torture chamber and they had a mage there with them. Slight tried to tell me that I would be given healers, a bed, a warm bath, and a real meal if I just told them what they wanted to know. I asked if I had been ransomed. Twitch didn't seem to like that. I was told there was no ransom. I reasoned if he wouldn't ransom me by some of our oldest, most set in stone laws, then he was certainly not going to follow through on his promises. I told him I'd take my secrets to the Peaceful Realms. I was strapped into the chair again and when I didn't answer the questions, he spelled me with… with… a… I think His Grace, Duke Baird referred to it as a 'Torture Spell'. I don't know how anyone is supposed to answer questions when their whole body feels—like—well like that. It didn't seem very well thought out."

"What color was his Gift?" George asked.

"Brown. A yellow toned brown," she admitted. "After the questions and the spell I didn't have much energy to be helpful in getting unstrapped from the chair so it took some time. Twitch started to panic again and asked what they were going to do, that he needed to return to his employer, it was too close to the coronation and plans had to be made. Twitch was assured that Slight would still try for information and tell him if I spoke."

"Tell them what you told me about Slight protecting his payment," Faleron nudged her.

"Oh, Twitch said that Slight had promised his employer I would talk. Slight said it was the fault of Twitch's employer that he hadn't been told I had received elite training in questioning evasion. That he hadn't been properly equipped for that sort of training. I think he was protecting his payment by saying that the employer was at fault, not himself."

"What sort of elite training did you receive?" George asked. "And by who?"

"That's the funny thing. I never received training," she looked to Roald.

"You expect us to believe you said nothing that whole time," the Captain of First Company asked.

"I expect you to believe it," Roald raised his voice. "Twitch left after that attempt?" Roald turned his attention back to Gwen.

"I didn't see him again. I only saw Slight again so soon because I was refusing meals."

"Why in Mithros name would you refuse meals?" Neal demanded.

"It wasn't intentional. I couldn't move. It was hard enough to eat with two hands of broken fingers but I challenge you to do it when you can't lift your body to even adjust the awkward angle you were tossed down on the floor in." Gwen blushed. "Slight had the guards force feed me because I was only allowed to die when he said so." She drew a long breath. "After that it was a long time before I went back to the torture room. They gave me a cold bath and then simply asked me to tell all I knew. I couldn't answer if I wanted to. I was fed some sort of potion and then I sat in my cell hallucinating until Prince Edric's men arrived."

"Is that all?" Roald heard Evin ask. "They didn't seem to try too hard after Twitch left. It doesn't sound like Tusaine wanted much to do with you after all."

"We've already covered the information I had from Prince Edric about their rebellion. It doesn't seem connected. Gwen could be correct that they simply were hired," Roald sat back in his chair.

"Depending on what they were charging, they might not have needed a ransom to fund their rebellion. Information on how to take down the Tortallan Crown could be lucrative enough." Dom leaned forward. "Your friend Louse," he looked to Gwen. "Was he also Tortallan?"

"No, he was the youngest son of one of Tusaine's generals. He claimed when I first met him that they didn't torture him anymore because he knew nothing of importance." Gwen shrugged. "I think they took him because they thought he could help them. They took me because they were paid to."

"So the question, now, is who in Tortall would pay a lucrative amount to try and stop the coronation of Roald," Neal asked. "Not to mention likely fund the other assassination attempts. Let's face the reality here; they are all likely linked together."

"Likely, but we don't know for a fact. We have to assume they might not all be the same people," Myles pointed out.

"Whoever it is, they aren't hiring the best," Gwen settled into her chair. "They probably aren't paying as much as we think its worth. 1000 gold crowns for Roald is an impressive amount for most small fiefs but an assassin would blow through most of that on bribes and concealment spells to try and get the job done properly."

"That's true. And all of the attempts have gotten through on sheer luck when the palace staff are focused elsewhere. They lack the finesse of true assassins. Mercenaries, yes, but not trained assassins." George nodded his approval.

"You're a smart young woman," Raoul pushed himself up from his chair. "Have you decided on if you should remain a squire yet?" Roald tried not to glare at the man who was as much like an uncle to him as he was a father to Kel. He had tried not to push Gwen into an answer because he wanted her to be certain of her answer.

"She is still considering that particular question of her future," Roald announced.

"Oh, I thought Fal told you," Gwen looked between Faleron and Roald and Roald frowned. Had Gwen opted out of being a squire and had discussed it with Faleron without telling him?

"I haven't had the chance, Love," Faleron turned to Roald. "A private conversation we should have later."

"If this is about my daughter's future I believe I have the right to hear it as well," Baron Willard announced.

"Well," Gwen looked to Faleron who nodded to her. "I'm going to try for my shield. And then after that, I plan to request a post as a desk knight at the palace from my task master." Gwen looked to Roald. "If I keep up this progress I believe I'll be strong enough by my Ordeal to withstand it. Fal agrees as well."

"You're certain?" Roald looked between the two of them.

"There is a condition to all of this," Faleron explained. "Should you or I believe she isn't progressing to where she should be, we can revisit this decision."

"I like that condition but I hardly believe it will be necessary. You did walk all the way down here," Padraig opened his mouth for the first time. "I find its best not to underestimate this young woman. Or any young woman on a mission." He paused. "Or any woman."

"That doesn't sound very conservative," Raoul turned to tease the man. Roald knew Padraig had been picked because he was a conservative while also being a respect Minchi.

"I'm practical," Padraig folded his arms. "And I see the damage those young women in my training can do when the boys upset them. I don't know why we ever stopped training young women to fight." He shrugged.

"The Cult of the Gentle Mother," Neal stood and adjusted his breeches. "They wanted to empower men by making women appear weaker."

"Another attempt to weaken our country with stupidity, no doubt," Padraig turned to Gwen. "If you want to join the first year pages to get back into your training, you are welcome to. If you would rather do your own thing, I look forward to seeing you around the practice courts." He saluted Gwen before leaving.

Roald didn't hide his grin. It was interesting to see the shift that happened with conservatives who witnessed young noblewomen go through page training. That Wyldon and Padraig both had changed their minds after being adamant that women weren't suited to the work meant that it was possible to steer the country towards a brighter future.


	36. Chapter 36

Gwen startled upright in her bed and looked around. She only had nightmares when Faleron wasn't around and since the night she had been fed the sleeping draught, Faleron had practically moved into her rooms. She supposed it was morning and by the light in the room, it had been for at least a little while. She looked over to see her clothes stand was still outside of her closet with Faleron's dress clothes draped over it. She frowned. It was the middle of the Midwinter festivities and Faleron was still required to attend parties as Roald's Champion though he was doing so without escorting a lady. Gwen was not required to attend the parties so she simply sat in her rooms doing her own thing until Faleron appeared sometime close to midnight and then they went to bed. Since he was keeping late hours she was surprised he was awake this early even if it wasn't exactly early.

She slipped out of bed and wrapped her dressing gown around her body. When she opened the bedroom door she became aware of quiet voices in the sitting room.

"You are an older, more experienced male. How do I know you aren't taking advantage of my vulnerable daughter?" She recognized her father's voice and rolled her eyes. He had been threatening a talk on Faleron whenever he was around but Gwen had always been present. She heard Faleron chuckle in response to her father's question.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh, but Gwen is very independent. You seem to assume she could be taken advantage of." Came the follow-up to the chuckle.

"She was taken advantage of in those dungeons," Aurelia's voice made Gwen stifle a groan.

"She was starved, tortured, and dehydrated. I think you'd notice if I was doing that to her to keep her with me. As it is, My Lord, I'd like to assure you that I have not been indecent with your daughter."

"You share a bed," Aurelia pointed out again.

"My daughter makes a point," Gwen heard her father sigh. "How can I believe you are not taking advantage of her since all I have witnessed is you breaking all of the rules by premaritally sharing her bed?"

"The nature of him sharing my bed is simply another way he is taking care of my health," Gwen stepped out of the study knowing Faleron could handle the conversation alone but shouldn't have to. "The fact of the matter is I suffer from awful night terrors from my time in that dungeon, and much like soldiers who go through war I find a sense of ease when he is with me through the night." She stood as tall as she could with her shoulders back and met her father's eyes.

"You look like your mother when you do that," her father smiled at her. "You sound like her too." He sighed. "I don't like that you share her bed, Sir Faleron, but my youngest daughter makes a point I cannot ignore. By the way, it's the morning after Longnight and I've brought your gift." He turned to Gwen and nodded to a large box. "I took the liberty of having the lid pried off for you."

"Thank you, Papa," she went to the box and saw it was full of wood shavings to protect whatever was inside from bouncing around too much. The wood chips scratched her hands as she pushed them aside and caught sight of dark stained stalk. She closed her fingers around it and lifted. Her arms strained with the effort but no one came to help her. Neither her father nor Faleron would help until she asked and Aurelia wouldn't help unless there was something in it for her. As she worked it clear of the wood shavings it became lighter but only a little. "Oh Papa!" She turned to hold the crossbow across her lap. While her parents had given her the bow she loved and the quiver to go with it, she never expected any further weapons from them.

"Your archery skills are still talked about by the men-at-arms at Merrywood. I thought you might like to improve with the crossbow as well. And of course your mother insisted on the color and your brother was involved in making it." Her father explained. "Just like Gwen has a talent for archery and protecting his Majesty, my son has an exceptional talent with creating wooden weapons. He made Gwen's bow as well." He explained to Faleron.

"I didn't know he was so talented," Faleron moved to sit by Gwen as she ran her hands over the smoothed wood.

"We don't speak about it much. While we're proud of him, most noble families aren't thrilled to have their sons or daughters skilled in a manual trade. He prefers to remain quiet about all of it to preserve whatever image our family has." Gwen listened to her father explain.

"I feel bad for the children of those nobles," Faleron turned and gave Gwen a small smile. "I take it you didn't wake up nicely," he swept a thumb under one of her eyes. "Perhaps I'll ask Roald to excuse me from tonight and we'll have our own private dinner."

"Ah you are awake," Roald stood in the doorway. "I wanted to be here when you went through your gifts."

"Why?" She turned and noticed the pile sitting by one of her couches.

"Because there's something from Edric in there, and something else from Nikolas, and there was a package from someone that signed as 'Louse'." He winked at her. "Besides wanting to see what they saw fit to send you. I may just enjoy spending some time with my squire."

"What about your own children and wife?" Aurelia asked.

"My children had Shinko and myself up before dawn to open their gifts. They are napping now, all of them." Roald laughed. "And that is a beautiful crossbow."

Gwen smiled at let Roald come take a look while she went and sat down by her father and the pile of gifts she had yet to work through. She felt a slight twinge of guilt as she saw gifts from Faleron and Roald. She had not been able to go shopping to get gifts for them and while she knew they understood, she still felt bad. She started with Roald's gift since he had decided to come join them. It was a beautifully crafted book full of detailed drawings of the forest and all of the life inside of it. Once she had sufficiently shown her gratitude over such a gift, she was handed another. She had expected Faleron's but he was now sitting in one of the armchairs with the small box in his hands. From Edric she had received a long letter which she would read at a later time and a sapphire and gold necklace.

"At least it isn't a whole box full of things like that. That was getting excessive," Gwen laughed as Roald reached to look the necklace over.

"You would laugh at a Prince sending you jewelry!" Aurelia snapped. She stood and left the room before anyone could explain the joke.

"Your sister loves you, Gwen. She was just as upset as the rest of us when we were informed you had been kidnapped. And she insisted on joining me in coming down to see you," her father told her calmly. "It's just that…" he trailed off looking around.

"It's just that I have everything she dreamed she ever wanted and I don't value it like she believes I should," Gwen sighed.

"But you do value it," Faleron gave her a pleasant social smile that told her he was about to shatter whatever reality she had built up. "Each piece of jewelry in your dressing room is laid out perfectly and organized. Your gowns are all on their own dress forms. You tend to your wealth like a garden, trimming bad investments back and adding to good investments. I've seen your letters with the Goldsmiths Guild." He paused. "And as much as I dislike referring to myself as some young lady's dream, no one that's been around you since you've come back from Tusaine will say that you do not value our relationship."

"I wouldn't even say that. I know I value the things I've been given but it doesn't outwardly show. I don't wear jewelry for everyday occasions. I don't wear the beautiful cloth that I was sent often enough. I don't worship you like a god that has chosen to favor me." She took the necklace back from Roald and nestled it back in its box carefully. "Perhaps I should go talk to her." She rose and Faleron stopped her.

"There is no need for you to go tracking your sister through the halls right now," he settled her back into her seat. When she tried to interrupt he put his thumb over her lips. "First, you're wearing your dressing robe. Second, I'd rather you save your strength for your exercises. I'll go find her." He kissed her forehead and then left to locate Aurelia. While he was gone, she decided it was best to get through the rest of her gifts.

From Nikolas she received another long letter she would read later and a tea set that looked much like that one she had complimented him on when she had first had tea with him. It was black stone, painted with a dark gray glazed design of the Merrywood tree. It was subtle yet very beautiful. From Aloys she received a one word note 'Princess' and something her father explained was called a 'brain puzzle' which consisted of different twists of metal that she was assured could come apart but only if moved right and then needed to be put back together after taken apart. She laughed knowing that Aloys had probably put a lot of thought into the gift to keep her mind and hands active.

By the time Gwen had set Aloys gift aside, Faleron had returned with Aurelia in tow. Gwen looked around and realized that Faleron, Roald, and her father all seemed interested in what was about to be said. She wasn't about to have an audience when she talked to her older sister.

"Auri, will you help me find a suitable place for this?" She held up the box with the necklace. Aurelia nodded and the two of them went back to the bedroom, closing the study door and bedroom door behind them. "I never asked for any of this," Gwen announced when the door was closed. "All I wanted was to help people and protect people. That being said, it's not that I do not value everything that I have."

"I know, Gwenie." Aurelia sat down on the bed and saw the rack with Faleron's clothes laid over it. She raised an eyebrow at Gwen.

"His formal clothes for the parties. He keeps some of his regular clothes in my dressing room," Gwen explained. "Auri, I didn't plan on Faleron asking me to court. I didn't believe he could think of me as anything more than Roald's squire."

"Hush Gwenie," Aurelia patted the spot on the bed next to her. This was not the way Gwen had expected things to go, Aurelia was emotional and dramatic. This was calm and somewhat easy. "You're nothing like me. We're opposites. I've known that for years. I knew it before we went to the Convent but I knew it more after I saw you jump in the water to save that commoner. The Sisters shamed you and all of the girls shamed you. If that had been me, I would have withdrawn or run home. You didn't. You just ignored them and handed in your resignation from the Convent and told them you had decided to be a page. Did you know that they talked about you long after you left? They thought that after two years, you shouldn't have had a thought about being a page. They were upset that you did so well at your studies and they had no notion you were such a rebel." Gwen smiled when Aurelia did. "They never asked me, of course."

"I must be a legend now. Leave the Convent, four years later I'm the Prince's squire gifted with riches from Tusaine's Crowned Prince, and to top it off after that, Sir Faleron of King's Reach has decided for some reason that he prefers me. Perhaps there will be an influx in the page program."

"Perhaps. Not only did you snatch up Sir Faleron but Lady Knight Keladry snatched up Captain Domitan of Masbolle. I bet the Sisters are livid." Aurelia started to giggle. "I wish I could see their faces."

"Do you want the necklace, Auri? You know I won't exactly have an occasion to wear it."

"You'll find occasions one day," Aurelia told her. "When you are Countess of King's Reach you'll need them. Are you going to run training for the ladies still?"

"If," Gwen corrected. "We're courting, not betrothed."

"This is the longest Sir Faleron has courted someone."

"Six months?" Gwen laughed outright. Sure they had been something close to friends before that time but in reality they had 'courted' for a month before she had been taken and now they had only been together a little over another month and he had been caring for her. In reality they had only spent roughly two months courting. Nobility often married after short betrothals and betrothals that took place after only a month or so of courting. Most of that time was betrothal contract negotiating and writing. She didn't like that practice.

"He shares your bed. He stood up to Papa about it. His clothes are in your rooms," Aurelia waved at the clothing rack again.

"Well, if I ever become Countess of King's Reach and it becomes expected that we maintain the program, I'll request your assistance." She sighed and looked over at her sister. "I'm not trying to step on everything you wanted."

"I know. I do know." Aurelia threw herself back on the bed. "I'm jealous but then I remember the scars you showed me. And then what happened later that day."

"I have more scars now," Gwen hadn't meant to say anything to interrupt but it had popped out.

"And I bet Sir Faleron has seen them," Aurelia grinned when Gwen blushed. "I suppose I had better figure out what I'm going to be teaching. And I'm helping with your wedding. No quick simple wedding either!"

"I'm not getting married yet! We haven't even discussed marriage!" Gwen fought back another blush and a giggle.

"I bet that box he's holding is a betrothal ring. He's been twisting that box in his hands since he came out to greet us this morning." She stopped when Gwen rolled her eyes. "Well, when you do get married you have to wear this," Aurelia sat up and pulled a small package from a pocket in her gown. Gwen opened it and found a small roll of lace. As she unrolled it she gasped. The design was of delicate flowers with crystals tatted in to the design. "I don't think a veil would suit you. It covers your beauty up too much. But perhaps if you wore this like a headband?"

"Did you make this?" Gwen held up the lace to her head so Aurelia could fuss over it as a headband.

"Yes, one of the things I excelled at in the Convent. I like tatting lace. I think it's pretty. There, go look at it." She finished tying it in place and gave her a shove towards the mirror.

"It's more than pretty. It's beautiful." Gwen stood in front of the mirror and stared at the contrast of the lace against her hair.

"Good, so you'll wear it."

"Not only will I wear it, if this is what you enjoy doing, I'll fund it," Gwen turned to face her sister. The conversation that followed was a rapid discussion of prices of thread, the gemstones, and providers. When they were done, Gwen signed a letter to the Goldsmith Guild allowing Aurelia to withdraw the coin she needed. By the time they reentered the sitting room they were laughing and joking.

"How is it that I'm the only Merrywood that doesn't craft beautiful things?" Gwen asked when they sat back down amongst Roald, Faleron, and their father.

"Only you would call weapons beautiful," Aurelia rolled her eyes.

"That took some time," Roald looked between the two girls.

"We were exchanging Midwinter gifts," Gwen offered. She knew he was looking for some sort of story of what had happened that had brought them out laughing.

"Well, you still have your gift from me, Love," Faleron held out the small box he had been holding. She saw Aurelia behind Faleron raise an eyebrow at her.

"You do enough for me," she told him firmly.

"Well, too bad," Faleron placed the box in her hands and closed them around it. She sighed internally and opened the box. Inside was a very thin silver chain with a small pendant shaped like an arrow that created the clasp in the front so the arrow would be horizontal in the space between her collarbones. "Perhaps this is a piece of jewelry you can wear every day."

"It's beautiful," she removed the chain from the box and settled it around her neck to clasp it in place. "I'll certainly wear it often."

Her sister and father stayed a while longer and then left to go get ready for the evening's party. Aurelia was still not betrothed but there were prospects. After a little longer, Roald took his leave, leaving Gwen alone with Faleron again.

"So you like the necklace," Faleron pressed as he came to sit by her with the balm for her hands.

"I love it," Gwen told him hoping he could hear she was being honest.

"What was your sister making faces over my shoulder for?" He asked as he started to rub the balm in.

"I'm surprised you noticed." Only for a brief moment Gwen considered lying and pretending that Faleron was making things up. But she was simply impressed he had noticed. "She thought it was going to be a betrothal ring. I told her she was silly."

"She's not too far off target," Faleron told her after a long moment of silence. "I considered a ring," he admitted. "I already know that I've decided on you." He stopped to kiss her temple. "A couple weeks ago we talked about you staying on as a squire. Had you told me you didn't feel you wanted to continue, that you wanted to take Roald's other offer, I would have asked for your hand then. But with you deciding to remain a squire, I thought you might not want the added pressure of a betrothal. So I thought I should probably wait until after your Ordeal." He returned to massaging the balm into her fingers.

"The only pressure of a betrothal is other people asking about wedding plans," she said after a few long moments. "The moment you're betrothed everyone starts asking about when, where, the dress, the colors, the flowers, how many children you'll have, if you have names picked out for them yet…" she shook her head. "Do people really know all of that right away?"

"I doubt it," Faleron moved to put his arms around her. "Roald isn't going to let me out of the party tonight. Your father talked me into introducing Aurelia to some other Lords."

"If it's for her, I suppose I won't go and complain," Gwen settled in against him.

"Go get dressed and then we'll have breakfast and then work through your exercises." Faleron gave her a push to stand up and she went. When she returned, dressed in breeches and a practice shirt, Faleron led her into the dining room. "I've changed my mind about this," he set another small box in front of her plate. "I've already made my decision about you. I'd like to be betrothed to you so I'm going to give you the ring. All I want to know from you is that you want this, then you can tuck the ring away until you believe we are ready to answer all of those questions."

"If you don't already know the answer," she turned to meet his eyes.

"Sometimes I like to pretend I don't know the answer so I can hear you say it," he bent down to open the box. The ring was silver entwined with gold around a large opal flanked by small offset diamonds. It was simply beautiful.

"Yes, I want to be your wife." She reached up to pull him down for a kiss.

"Good, then put the ring somewhere safe and we'll plan a wedding eventually and no one has to ask questions until you are ready."

"I don't want you thinking that I'm not proud to be yours," she started.

"I know better. I know you'd wear it right now if I asked it of you." He kissed her lips. "But what I'm asking is that you focus on getting better and earning your shield. When you're comfortable there, we'll announce it."

"What about our families? There are contracts and things…"

"Your father and I spoke when you went to speak with Aurelia. He asked where I intended courtship to go and then told me he doesn't want me asking for permission or contracts from him. You're now an heiress in your own right and you've already proven you're going to make your own decisions." He sat down next to her. "And as a love match we don't really need a contract. Any other questions I can answer?"

"Which servants did you harass to get me breakfast at this hour?" She nodded to the tray of eggs, oatcakes, and bacon. It was far closer to midday than breakfast by now.

**A/N: I'm taking a moment to answer a question that no doubt more than just one reader has. In this story it's not that Alanna is not allowed to deal with female pages or squires, it's simply that she is not involved. She wasn't in on that meeting because she is no longer the King's Champion with Roald as the King and he has his own Council. Myles and George are involved as they are the Spymasters and Raoul is involved because he still leads the Own. Not that I don't love her as a character, I just don't see her as super involved in this one.**


	37. Chapter 37

Roald smiled at Gwen as she went through the basic drills in unarmed combat with Faleron. Roald had feared that Faleron would be too easy on Gwen due to his protectiveness of her and their relationship, but instead it seemed that Faleron was just as committed to getting her back on track as he was to protecting her. Whenever she missed a step or was too weak with a punch or a kick, he'd make her do it again. And true to her nature, Gwen pushed through the barriers that were thought to be her limit. They practiced at the same time the pages did in the morning in the indoor practice courts. Though Roald was fairly certain Gwen and Faleron didn't hear the comments the pages whispered about her, he heard them clearly from his vantage point.

"I heard she took three arrows for His Majesty just so she could become his squire."

"I heard she escaped a dungeon in Tusaine with nothing but a hair pin."

"You're both nuts. She was in the right place at the right time and did her duty for His Majesty. And she didn't escape the dungeon. Someone came and let her out. But she did withstand lots of torture and keep silent." Roald turned to look at the speaker and found a girl who looked to be about thirteen standing between two ten year old pages. All three wore practice clothes. "My papa said she was starved and not given room to move so all of her muscle went away. That's why she has to train again."

"Did she have to start over her squire years?" One of the ten year olds asked.

"No, silly. She just has to work really hard to get her muscle back so she can take her Ordeal. Papa said the King told her she didn't have to, that he'd give her a spot on his council if she decided it would be too hard. But she said she wanted to be a knight."

"She's a hero."

"Maybe not a hero, but she's my role model. I want to be as strong as she is!" The thirteen year old turned back towards the training master. When Roald looked up at Padraig he noticed the family resemblance. Looking back at Gwen he could see she wasn't paying him any mind so he went over.

"Your daughter?" Roald nodded to the thirteen year old.

"Is it that obvious?" Padraig chuckled.

"Is she a first year?" Roald noticed she didn't seem to go with the older children.

"She just decided the Convent wasn't for her this last year and asked to be a page. She really believes Gwen is the best example of what a noble woman should be: Beautiful, Strong, and Deadly with a weapon." Padraig sighed. "I wanted to make sure she'd hold up alright so I ran her through drills all summer and she still wanted to come."

"She seems to know a lot about Gwen's 'accomplishments' as my squire," he raised an eyebrow at the training master.

"No use in letting her worship someone with false information. I'm afraid I only made her more in awe of Gwen but it couldn't be helped." Padraig turned to look over at Gwen and Faleron working through drills. "How is she doing?"

"Since we were cleared in January to start, she's been doing increasingly better each day. Duke Baird said her body remembers what it was like and is trying to get back there, so she doesn't have to work quite as long for the same results. But I suspect she works alone in her rooms most nights to push a little more, and I swear I saw a weighted harness in her study the other day."

"That would be a smart way to build muscle while she isn't exercising. It's never required of squires but we still require it of our second, third, and fourth year pages. It was a good practice that Cavall started. How's her archery?"

"Steadily improving. She got a new crossbow from her family for Midwinter so she's trying to get her body and aim up to trying it out." Roald saw Gwen stop in her practice and turn around to look for him.

"She looks vastly better than she did two months ago at that meeting," Padraig commented. And he was right. Gwen's face had filled out a little more and was now more rounded and less angular. Her body, while still terribly thin, no longer resembled a walking skeleton. Her skin had gained color. Her hands were becoming as limber and as quick as they used to be.

"Every day she looks better and better. I'm certain there will be a day in the near future where I look back at her and forget the toll those months took on her." Roald admitted.

"I doubt she'll forget. Or her lover there. It looks like they are waiting for you." Padraig gave Roald a nudge back towards Gwen and Faleron. All of court knew that Gwen and Faleron were courting and whether it was because they were so open about their courtship or because of how pitiful Gwen had looked upon return to the palace, the gossips about her being whored out to Roald's friends had been hushed early on. Now the gossip about them was about when they would get betrothed. Roald heard running bets about dates, times, before the Ordeal, after the Ordeal, how the betrothal would happen. He, himself, had put in a bet for the moment she stepped out of the chamber in a spontaneous utterance.

There were also bets on why she had been taken to Tusaine. He had heard a number of theories whispered in the halls and reported by his friends in passing. The most inaccurate he had heard was that Gwen had faked the whole thing to give information to Tusaine about the Tortallan Crown. There were holes in that theory such as the damage Gwen had taken. Those theorists put up that she had done it to herself in order to make her lie more believable. Other theories included Gwen's fief being indebted to Tusaine due to the large number of fixes and changes that had happened at Merrywood within the last two years and Gwen had been taken to get them to pay up. Roald knew that one was a lie due to the fact it was Gwen's money that had made those changes and that her captors had asked about him and never for a ransom. Another theory floating around was far more accurate to what Gwen had described: a fief in Tortall was plotting against the Crown and had used Tusaine's rebellion as a cover in case they failed.

They had looked into the fiefs that had green and blue as their colors. They were all under investigation and being monitored by spies to make sure that they were not involved. Of the five fiefs that held those particular colors, three looked unlikely and two appeared to be less than loyal. The smallest of the fiefs, Deerwood, Merrywood's neighbor, was top of the list for suspicion. Accounts had been uncovered with money going out of the fief with no reasons noted. The dates on those transactions were close to the dates of the assassination attempts and one large transaction of nearly two thousand gold crowns was a week after Midsummer. When asked about Deerwood, Gwen spoke fondly of the people. Her focus, it seemed, was on the woodsmen and men-at-arms she had come across when she went out on patrols with her men-at-arms. Of the Lord and his two sons, she had little to add. She didn't know them personally and she hadn't asked about them when she had been young and patrolling the woods.

Tusaine was little help in this part of the questions. When Roald had asked if any of Tortall's fiefs had been listed in account books or if they could track payments of such sizes, Edric had shaken his head. They had looked at a lot of those same things with the hopes of helping Tortall, but so far no account books had been uncovered. The Lord that Gwen had called Slight had disappeared before Tusaine's army had surrounded the fief. They suspected another fief of hiding him but were unable to prove it as of yet. Nobles in Tusaine had much the same rights as those in Tortall. They were untouchable on their fiefs and fiefs could not be searched without absolute proof something was going on. The guess was that Slight, or rather Lord Bariden, had taken whatever account books with him or that he had destroyed them before he had left. The lack of account books proved he had likely known they were coming and had fled, rather than it just having been luck he was away from his fief. Additional evidence such as Lord Bariden so very rarely left his fief that it was unlikely he had left for any reason except to spare himself. The guard Gwen had described had been identified by Sir Aloys and had refused to speak other than to admit he had 'loved hearing the little chit cry when he had been on her'. Edric had let it slip that Nik and Aloys had both gotten in a few good punches before anyone had pulled them off. Edric had also informed him that when they did get more information, Roald would be first to find out.

"Can't practice without me looking on?" Roald teased when he neared Gwen and Faleron.

"We saw you chatting with Padraig. Any advice he had?" Faleron asked.

"Not about Gwen's training. He's impressed with how far she's come, but I was talking to him more about his daughter. The older girl in with the first years," he nodded towards where the first years were running drills. "He was telling me how she decided against the Convent and worships my darling squire." He saw Gwen wrinkle her nose at his endearment.

"So your sister was right. You are inspiring women away from the Convent," Faleron wrapped his arms around Gwen and kissed her temple. "So, staff drills then." He stepped away from Gwen and went to retrieve their staves.

"Perhaps when you are Countess of King's Reach you'll turn the school in a more practical direction. Work with Shinko on creating those who are best suited to belong in the Queen's Ladies," Roald teased.

"Aurelia would have my head, I think. The Convent would send assassins after me. Perhaps it's the Convent out to get me, and some of the attempts are unrelated to you." She laughed.

"I'll add them to my list of people to watch," Roald told her mock-earnestly. He didn't believe the Convent would send assassins. More likely they would create gossip to discredit her, attack her femininity, create stories to destroy her reputation. They preferred to shame someone out of sight than to actually kill them. "Now, back to training," he turned her to face Faleron.

Unarmed combat, followed by staves, and then archery was the main part of their morning. When Gwen was doing better with those drills, they would reintroduce her sword and try out her crossbow. Mentally she was as sharp as ever. She was studying fairly advanced laws with Faleron and she was quick the equations he set her to. He didn't always tell her that he wasn't creating these equations as examples, he was simply using her abilities to eliminate some of the work that was building up. He assumed that if she knew he was using her to help with his work load, she'd stop concentrating on her physical health and apply herself fully to the work he needed done.

When Gwen was done with her work for the night, Roald always dismissed her and Faleron would stay behind so the two of them could discuss any changes to her routine. Most of the time the discussion was how much they should extend her exercises or what could be added. It was in these talks that Roald had discovered how Gwen had come by a weighted harness. She had simply asked Faleron for one for the times she was in her suite reading or relaxing so that she was still building up strength. He had given in and helped her work out how much weight she should use to start. The additional weight disks were hidden and locked away in Faleron's rooms and he would determine when Gwen was ready for another set of disks.

"You know there are bets about you and Gwen getting betrothed right? And earlier today I joked with Gwen about her being Countess to King's Reach… she didn't try to deny that it would happen." Roald asked when he and Faleron were nearing the end of their work.

"I know about the bets. I know about your bet," Faleron rolled his eyes. "And Gwen knows she's my Countess should she survive her Ordeal."

"Well are you going to tell me my bet was misplaced? That there's a plan there and a time?" Roald quirked an eyebrow. "When are you planning on asking my dear squire to make it official?"

"I can't tell you when it will be official," Faleron shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Gwen has the betrothal ring. She's already agreed to a betrothal. But I told her until she's ready to deal with the added pressure of others knowing and asking a thousand questions it was unofficial and she could decide when she was comfortable enough to make it public."

"When was all of this?" Roald sat up straighter in his chair. How had he missed this?

"After everyone left the room the morning after Longnight. She said Aurelia had thought I had a ring in the box I had given her and I couldn't lie to her about what I wanted from her. I'm certain of her and she claims to be certain of me so I gave her the ring." He shrugged. "Only she will know when she wants to make it official."

"Huh," Roald sat back in his chair. "I'm surprised. With how public you two have made things, I thought the betrothal would be… more public."

"Officially we are not betrothed," Faleron pointed out. "If Gwen had it her way everything would be quiet and contained to our two sets of rooms."

"Why make it so public then?" Roald had wondered why Faleron was so very obvious about his relationship with Gwen. It was clearly Faleron doing most of the initiating of their public interactions.

"Well, beyond the fact I'm proud of her and proud to show her off," Faleron started and Roald rolled his eyes. "I thought if I showed all of Court how utterly in love I am, they wouldn't accuse her of being a whore or of believing she's a passing fling for me." He sighed. "She knows all of that too which is why she lets me do it."

"So Gwen has the ring and whenever she decides to wear it, it's official?" Roald tried to wrap his head around it.

"That would be it," Faleron settled his papers into a neat stack on his lap. "Did Gwen tell you about the letter Sir Nikolas sent her with his gift over Midwinter?" Roald shook his head. He had assumed Edric's letter was apologies, inquiries, and further academic debate. While he was aware Gwen had never received a letter from Nikolas before, he had thought it would be an inquiry into her health. "He asked her to forgive his lapse in judgment several years ago when he left her standing alone and then gave a list of reasons she should return to Tusaine and court him. One of those reasons was that Aloys would be her brother-in-law." Faleron rolled his eyes. "She showed me the letter to ask me what I thought he had been thinking."

"And?" Roald was curious to see Faleron's thoughts on it.

"Exactly what we discussed when I told you I sensed jealousy from him in Tusaine. He saw her in one of her vulnerable moments and he was the strong one again. By the point he had written the letter and sent it, Nikolas wouldn't have known Gwen had decided to remain a squire. It looked to all outsiders that Gwen wouldn't continue on in her studies." Faleron sighed. "Gwen has made her decision and she wrote him to tell him so."

"Has he written back?" Roald was genuinely curious.

"Aloys did. He said had he known Nik was making such a proposal he would have stolen the letter and burned it. He also said that Gwen's decision to remain a squire had been a surprise but a pleasant one to himself and to Edric." Faleron grinned. "No word on how Nik took that."

"So I suppose I had better come up with a betrothal gift for the two of you," Roald smiled up at his friend.

"Well, you have a while. I don't think it will be until closer to Midwinter if it is before her Ordeal." Faleron sighed. "You're not upset?"

"Just don't get her pregnant before her Ordeal and I won't be upset," Roald stood to gather his work together.

"Unlikely that will happen. We share a bed, but we don't have that sort of physical relationship." Roald looked up at Faleron a bit surprised. After walking in on some of their more passionate kisses he had been certain they were doing more than sleeping in the same bed. "Should it get there, though, Neal gave her a replacement for the pregnancy charm she lost."

"Does she still have nightmares?" Roald wondered if their lack of a sexual relationship was due to her nightmares about the rape.

"Sometimes, but usually I'm there and she doesn't have them," Faleron stood too. "Are you sending me out on patrol again this year after Midsummer?"

"I was thinking about it. You two will have to separate eventually. It will be a good time to see if her mind has healed enough for the Ordeal." Roald expected a backlash from Faleron but instead he saw Faleron nodding.

"I was thinking along the same lines," Faleron admitted. "I was also wondering if you'd approve a couple weeks of leave time for me to return to King's Reach."

"Of course. Perhaps you could go on patrol and then to King's Reach. However long you need." It was a surprise that Faleron was letting go of some of his overprotectiveness but then it was a testament to his faith that Gwen was improving. If continued on her current path, Roald had no doubt she'd be able to cope with Faleron being gone for a month or two by the time Midsummer came around.


	38. Chapter 38

Even with Faleron's arms around her in the bed in her dark room, Gwen wasn't thinking of sleeping just yet. He was already asleep, had been for several hours, but her mind was racing. In the morning it would be Midsummer again: the day that seemed to be a pinnacle for her since she had become a squire. The first year she had been a squire she had nearly died saving the Crowned Prince by shoving him out of the way and taking arrows that were meant for him. Her heroics had gotten her an offer to be the squire to the Crowned Prince. Before that moment she had been a squire that was bound to palace service without a hope of a knight master looking her way. She had believed then that she would either remain in palace service for four years or she would be picked up by a disinterested desk knight. The second year had been fairly quiet though she had been coated in poison meant for Roald. The third year she had been attacked, taken to the ball by the unattainable man she had been harboring a crush on, and he had confessed his love for her alone in his rooms later that night with some fairly wonderful kissing. And following some terrifying events, he was now in her bed every night and rarely spent time in his own rooms next door.

This year also marked a change for her. It was the half way mark from being cleared to start training again to her Ordeal. It was assessment time in the morning. She knew that she felt she was doing well. The measuring cord in her dressing room told her that her body was nearly as filled out as before. She could no longer count her ribs without sucking in her stomach. Her face was as round as it had once been. With the exception of some stiffness in the morning, her hands were back to their original nimbleness. She was running again before she trained and her swordsmanship was getting back up to the same level she had been at before. It was more her endurance she had to work on than remembering the movements. Her body remembered the movements she needed to do, it was simply making sure the muscles were built up enough in the right areas and that her lungs and heart were up to the challenge. But it didn't matter if she thought she was doing well. It mattered if Roald and Faleron thought she was doing well. And neither of them had said much to her about what they thought about her progress in the last month. Were they trying to think of nice ways to tell her she would do better to quit now?

If she did quit now, she could stop killing herself with such insane exercises and could take things much slower. If she did quit now, she could marry Faleron sooner and settle in as one of Roald's advisors. She already knew he used her to make whatever paperwork load he had go down. Not that he had said it specifically but she knew the equations he had given her to work with and what they belonged to. She had no doubts he would set her in place with that sort of work when she was either knighted or forced to quit.

"You need some sleep, Love," Faleron arms tightened around her and his lips found the top of her head. "Stop worrying."

"It's my nature to worry," Gwen informed him turning over to face him.

"It's your nature to take all of our expectations and throw them back in our faces," Faleron informed her. "You're going to do fine." He pulled her body in against his and she nuzzled into his bare shoulder. In the warmth of summer he had abandoned his shirt and had tried talking her into abandoning her clothes altogether. He had already seen her without a shirt since he had been rubbing lotions into her back to heal up the scars and shrink them as much as possible. He had assured her then, when she had been self-conscious, that he had found her body unbelievably beautiful though she was impossibly thin and scarred. Despite his reassurances about her body and his attempts to talk her into sleeping nude or in her loincloth to remain cool in the summer, she still wore a knee length nightshirt.

"Tomorrow is the last night you and I will get to do this for a while," Gwen pointed out. She was slightly sad he was going to be gone for so long but she knew that this would happen in their marriage should she survive her Ordeal. Both of them would do border patrols and likely they wouldn't go at the same time. That was at least two months out of twelve they would be apart. It could be more, it could be less.

They had meant to do a trial run with her alone the night before to see if she had nightmares without him still. Faleron had gone to sleep in his rooms and she had fallen asleep in hers. But by midnight Faleron was in her rooms settling into her bed. When she had tried to inquire about him being in her bed though she hadn't had a nightmare yet, he had simply stated he didn't want to sleep without her when he would be without her in his bed soon enough. Secretly she had been thrilled that he wanted to be in her bed as much as she wanted him there.

"I'll be back in September and you'll have changed the locks so I can't come in here and show you how much I missed you," Faleron teased.

"As if Roald would allow such discord by letting me lock you out," Gwen rolled her eyes at him.

"He is sort of secretly proud he nudged us together," Faleron's white grin flashed in the dark. "More or less he told me it was okay to pursue you and that's more the nudge I needed. I didn't want to complicate things for you or him."

"Well now it's complicated," Gwen teased. "I sleep with you, but we don't have sex. We aren't betrothed, but we are."

"Two things that could be fixed to uncomplicated things," Faleron teased. "Now, sleep or you will be too tired to do your assessment tomorrow." She grinned and snuggled in to his shoulder. Of course he would casually bring up they could indeed have sex and also be officially betrothed because it was simply her own self restricting them causing complications. But just as quickly as he brought it up, he always side tracked to something else. Yes they could have sex and be betrothed, but she should sleep. They were small hints he did want those things to happen but at the same time he wasn't going to put too much pressure on her.

Part of her questioned why she hadn't just given in sexually. It wouldn't exactly make things complicated or change much about their relationship. She knew it was partially the rapes that had part of her judgment but it was also that she still had this part of her brain telling her to wait until they were married. But she also knew better on both accounts. They didn't have to wait until marriage and she already knew that Faleron wouldn't be a brute and hurt her. For some reason though it just felt hard to cross that line and she was comfortable where she was.

The same thought followed her through her dreams and into the morning where Roald and Faleron watched her go through her exercises and sparred against her. Neal had come and given her a look over and had announced that had he not known the circumstances, he would call her very fit. Knowing the circumstances he would call her incredible. All of her worries about being told she wasn't physically progressing were laid to rest absolutely and quickly.

This particular Midsummer she would be a squire again, serving amongst her fellow squires at the ball, near Roald's side. Once again she was fitted with thin armor under her clothes, charms to detect poisons, and several weapons tucked against her body should she find need of them. Faleron took a few long moments to kiss her thoroughly in her rooms while he got ready. He would be attending again and without a lady. But he did assure her that he planned to stay by Roald's side all night. He too was fitted with charms and armor under his clothes. Neither of them were really all that ready to believe that they were safe because Roald was King now. She left early, before him, to receive her assignment and placement from Master Oakbridge. It was a formality. She knew her placement.

As the ball opened she was pleasantly surprised to see Queen Shinkokami present in a beautiful eastern style gown of light blue and silver. She contrasted Roald's red and gold on his left side. It was rare of her to see them together as she mostly only dealt with Roald but she knew they did love one another. Faleron stood in a splendid purple and black tunic, purple shirt, and black hose that were the colors that represented King's Reach. When he saw her looking him over, he winked and moved to stand on Roald's right side. They made a magnificent sight altogether. Shinko was glorious in her crown representing his heart on his left and Faleron wearing a beautifully polished longsword on an ornamental belt was to represent his strength on the right. Not that anyone ever spoke of such symbolism, but it was always visible at events such as this.

As the first time she had viewed them at a formal event, it took her aback. For a brief moment she wondered how she would work into the equation after she was knighted. She wasn't his champion, he had one of those. She would simply be a paper shuffler in the background and stand off to the side to admire from a distance at these sorts of events. Even if she did become Faleron's wife, she didn't work into that particular equation. It was disheartening and she partially blamed Slight and whoever employed him for taking her away during Roald's coronation. Perhaps she would have had a place had she been there to be involved.

"I don't like that look," she heard a voice at her side and she turned to see Lord Raoul standing by her with his fierce and beautiful wife Buri. "Care to share whatever has you looking so lost?"

"I'm just wallowing in self-pity for a moment," Gwen admitted.

"Misery loves company, more so, it loves to share," Buri told her as she stole a cup off of her tray.

"I was looking at the picture the three of them made together," she nodded to Faleron, Roald, and Shinko. "I guess I thought I belonged in that picture somewhere but now I see there really isn't any room. I don't know where I fit."

"Roald loves you like a sister and money is on Sir Faleron claiming your hand for marriage either right before or right after your Ordeal," Raoul told her kindly. "You fit just fine in that picture."

"I know, but I'm not his Champion, thank the gods I'm not his love, I'm just his squire… his… I don't know… his shield that stands in front of attacks." She bit her lip after she said it.

"Shields are useful but I know what you mean. When Jonathon was crowned I was already knighted which made it easier to place me, but he had Thayet whom he was courting and Alanna as his Champion. I was put in charge of the King's Own. It was my duty to protect the King. It still is," he chuckled. "I could have found a place to stand among them and show he was protected and watched, but it's not really my thing. Gary, Gareth the Younger that is, became his Prime Minister. Poor soul. And he openly refused to stand at the dais." Raoul laughed. "I'm sure when you are knighted in Midwinter, Roald will have you proudly on display up with him somewhere."

"You know, I never thought of you as his shield," Buri commented to Gwen. "You're a lot of things, Squire Gwendolyn, but a shield is something you throw away after it has been damaged. For some reason he keeps having you repaired and set by his side even if you seem lost completely. I'm not sure what you are, but you are not a shield."

"Hello, Sir Raoul, Buri," Faleron's voice made her bite her lip as he approached. She certainly didn't want him to hear her wallowing because it would concern him and create a speech. And then Roald would catch wind and he would become concerned and likely reward her or something. But Faleron gave no indication he had heard anything as he leaned in to steal a cup and to kiss her temple.

"Enjoy the ball Squire Gwen," Raoul patted her shoulder and then he and Buri left her to stand with Faleron alone.

"I don't like that you are out here serving and are not up at my side up there. I feel like we're too exposed." Faleron sighed. "Did Roald say you had to serve or that you had to attend as a squire?"

"Don't they go hand in hand?" Gwen asked.

"I don't ever remember Zahir serving at parties when he was the King's Squire. That was simply because Jonathon had other things for him to do." Without a word Faleron took her tray and disappeared. For the brief moment of time he was gone she noticed Roald watching her, biting back a laugh. When Faleron returned he took her hand and dragged her up to the dais. "I'm enlisting you and your sharp eyes," Faleron told her simply.

"Is he allowed to do that?" Gwen asked, leaning around Faleron to see Roald.

"I'm not to argue with my Champion about my safety," Roald grinned. "I didn't think you would make it out of your room to get down to get a tray honestly."

"Really Gwen, you belong up here, come stand on this side," Shinko pointed to the space next to her. "You can help be my eyes."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Gwen bowed to Shinko feeling sheepish. Of course she had been silly. She was always silly. She was just lucky that those she spent her time with helped her see through it to reality. And perhaps when she was knighted, she might choose not to stand near the dais or on it. It was something she would discuss with Roald when the time came, when she was knighted, and when she had whatever title he was going to grant her.

The night, although long and full of normal mischief, drew to an end an hour after midnight when Roald and Shinko claimed to be too tired to carry on. Faleron snagged Gwen's arm and steered her to follow Roald and Shinko as the ball ended in their wake. In reality only a few stragglers were left. Those who were still hoping for a chance at finding someone to take back to their rooms, those who were romantic about balls, and those who were simply night people were usually the last ones left at parties. When they turned out of sight of the ballroom and down into the more private corridors, Faleron's arm moved to go around her waist and she snuggled in to him.

"You watch him when I am gone," he whispered in her ear. She nodded making it look like they were being lovey. They were certainly being romantic with each other, but also they were being practical. They made sure Roald and Shinko made it to their apartments before they back tracked to Gwen's suite. Gwen stripped off her uniform and threw herself down on the bed in her loincloth and breastband.

"It's hot," she sighed when Faleron looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. Without a word he went to open a couple windows to bring in a breeze.

"There, now it should be comfortable enough," he tossed her the nightshirt she normally wore but she let it fall to the floor and went to get under the covers. It wasn't a betrothal or love making, but it was a start and by the look Faleron gave her when he realized what had happened, it was a good start.


	39. Chapter 39

"Perhaps that trip to Merrywood would be a good break from some of this… dullness," Roald waved at the obvious lack of things to do. After Midsummer, court life tended to fizzle out for a month or two. In past years the court moved to the summer palace from June through the end of August but with Jonathon and Thayet taking up residence there full time, they had simply stopped going as a whole court. Any who wished to go still could and many did, after the Midsummer ball. So now they were faced with little work, quiet halls, and boredom between Gwen and Roald.

Gwen looked to Roald and chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought. When she had proposed they go to Merrywood it had been a proposal to Roald and Faleron. With Faleron having just left only two weeks before it didn't look remotely hopeful he'd join them. After four weeks on border patrol he was heading straight to King's Reach for nearly a month, maybe more should he find need. Whatever his reasons for needing to go, he had kept them to himself.

"Roald," she said his name more and more rather than 'Your Majesty'. She found it got his attention better. As it was he was now looking directly at her rather than the ceiling where he had been staring. "I don't believe it's a good idea to go until Deerwood is cleared of all suspicion of treason or all treason they do have is eradicated. I don't want to be responsible for bringing you into harm's way when I've worked so hard to keep you alive this long."

"How did you know we're investigating Deerwood?" Roald tipped his chair up and seemed more alert.

"Papa told me you're using Merrywood as a base," Gwen shrugged. She didn't realize she wasn't supposed to know or she would have found other, less direct ways of turning him down. "Either way, do you really think I wouldn't have noticed something was up with Deerwood after you asked me about the Lord and his sons?" She moved to sit in the chair opposite of Roald's desk. "Did you find anything good?"

"They look like they might be our culprits. Their wealth is going somewhere but we have yet to determine where. George has spies inside of the fief and they report in at Merrywood. Since you told me you know that, I suppose I had better tell you I know you have a betrothal ring hidden in your room that you haven't decided to wear yet."

Gwen sat up straighter and looked at Roald. She didn't know what she expected but it wasn't the silly grin he was giving her now. Yes, there was a betrothal ring tucked away in a locked drawer in her desk. Yes, she hadn't decided to wear it yet. She had been so careful to keep it an absolute secret, not even Faleron knew where she had hid it. As soon as she thought of Faleron she knew exactly how Roald knew there was a ring somewhere in her suite with marriage written all over its purpose. "Did Fal also tell you why I haven't decided to wear it yet?"

"He said it added pressure to you that you didn't need," Roald poured the juice he had sitting on his desk into two cups. He pushed one towards Gwen. "I appreciate the deal you two made. I appreciate Faleron's clever thinking in coming up with giving you the control. I know he tries not to pressure you about when you're going to wear it."

"He's a really good man," Gwen took her cup and frowned at the grape juice inside. "I should have worn it earlier." She knew that was the truth. She was healed now and back to doing her old routine. Roald was even challenging her to do their old sword duels again. It really wouldn't add too much pressure anymore to start planning a wedding or at least to tell people they weren't going to plan too much until her Ordeal was over. The people of Court really did understand things like that. They knew there was always a chance that Ordeals could kill or leave someone mentally or physically broken to a point beyond repair. Throwing coins into a wedding that may not happen was financially insane.

"Fal doesn't expect you to wear it until probably after your Ordeal," Roald cut through her daydreams. "I'm sure he's aware that you want to be his betrothed."

"How did this go from let's escape the palace to my betrothal?" Gwen demanded, setting her still full cup down.

"Well, it so happens it went there because I'm bored and want to discuss things that aren't boring, or do things that aren't boring." Roald chuckled. "Your relationship with my best friend is not boring to say the least. You've upset the Court balance in a way."

"A woman who isn't a proper lady gets the most eligible Court Bachelor? Didn't that happen with Captain Domitan as well with Lady Knight Keladry? Or perhaps we look at Lord Raoul who is wealthy and was certainly a Court Bachelor if not an older one and he was snatched up by Buri. Despite his dramatics, Sir Neal would have also been a Court Bachelor had he lasted longer into his knighthood before getting married. And look who he married, someone unconventional by Tortallan standards." She shrugged and realized that Roald was listening intently. "No, not every man has suddenly decided he wants a less conventional wife. You still have conservatives or even progressives that find beauty in the teachings of the Convent. I know I speak ill of the Convent a lot but for some ladies, it's where they find there calling. Did you know Aurelia tats beautiful and exceptional lace? She learned how to do that at the Convent. It is good training on Court manners. I know I lack the manners now, but I think you've beaten them out of me."

"Pages get Court manners too," Roald informed her. "Master Oakbridge has been torturing pages for generations." He grinned. "And yes, I beat the Court manners right out of you. Could you imagine how much work would fail to get done if we had to bow to each other every time we saw and left one another? Or perhaps you'd like a formal dismissal every time I send you away for the night." Gwen snorted behind her hand. Roald's current form of dismissal at the end of the night was by telling her to 'be gone or else'. She doubted that was considered formal. "And where would we be if you were afraid to disagree with me out of protocol? Probably packing up and heading to Merrywood where with our luck you'd get your pretty self killed because I didn't think it through."

"My point is, for most of Court, those rules mean there isn't anarchy. That you want to be human amongst your friends, well that's fine," Gwen flapped a hand at him. "Perhaps we can go for a ride? Or perhaps we could take Kai out on his pony?" The mention of the new Crowned Prince's pony usually made Roald get an adorable smile. He was proud of his son for learning to ride so early. At the age of five he was already learning control of himself on a mount.

"I've been thinking. I know it's five years away still, but Kai will be a page when he's ten. There's enough pressure being the Crowned Prince because you have to be at least very good at everything while still maintaining some sort of diplomacy with your peers…"

"I recall some stories of your father that have been told where he wasn't the least diplomatic to all of his peers," Gwen reminded Roald. In reality, Roald had done what no Prince before him had, he hadn't thought selfishly as a ten year old and had tried to be fair at all points. He refused to use royal privilege even when there could be a call for it.

"Be that as it may," Roald rolled his eyes. He knew her argument that it wasn't abnormal to flaunt a little power when one was the Crowned Prince at some point amongst peers. "I was wondering if Kai should come with me to watch your practices in the mornings. I know he's interested in you. He was over the moon to find out Shinko had you stand at her side during Midsummer."

"About that," Gwen frowned. "I'm loyal to Shinko and all, but," she tried to find a delicate way to put it.

"I don't expect you to be her personal guard when you are knighted. I have other thoughts of where you should go." He teased her. "As I was saying, I'd like to bring Kai to come see your practices so he starts to see the weapons work and the amount of training you do."

"You're going to scare him," Gwen teased. "Fal tells me that I'm a mad woman all of the time for everything I do."

"And yet you're still going to marry him." Roald stood. "Let's go get Kai and take him down to the corral. If he does very well I might say we take him into the Royal Forest next week."

"With guards," Gwen informed him. "No nonsense with the King and the heir both present."

"I swear you and Fal are mentally linked and he speaks through you sometimes. That sounded just like him." Roald shuddered.

"Good, it keeps you on your toes."

"And there's Gwen again," he chuckled and led the way out.

Gwen genuinely loved working with Kai. He was a quiet, kind hearted, and naturally empathetic little boy with black hair, almond shaped dark eyes, and slightly golden skin tone. He sat on the fence cheering as Gwen went through her morning exercises and called encouragements to her. She could tell Roald was attempting to explain what she was practicing or what the name of the move was called because she'd hear it repeated in the encouragements. She found it was best to ignore him because the moment she would turn and acknowledge him, he'd blush and try and hide. His quiet nature might be broken to shout encouragements but not to deal with a girl first hand quite yet. He watched Gwen for a week and Gwen watched him on his pony. Roald, she was surprised to notice, stood back and let her take charge of helping him.

"You're a natural teacher," he informed her when she cornered him on it when Kai was out of hearing. "And," he paused. "He's seen some of the greatest knights of my generation. They are like aunts and uncles to him. He's seen the greatest knights of my father's generation. They are like distant relatives. But he hasn't seen their accomplishments. He just knows that they are 'great knights'. You've been a visible figure in his life since he was two. To him, and to many pages that I've heard whispering, you're a role model before you've even taken your Ordeal. They aren't following distant stories, you're visibly in front of them and have been almost the whole time. He's excited to learn from you. You tell him things that I've told him before and he does them for you. So I'm going to let you teach so long as he's still excited."

"That was a long answer for: He's sucking up to you and trying harder," Gwen informed Roald before returning to go address a new issue with Kai's riding. She was secretly embarrassed by the amount of importance that was being placed on her by the young. She had never considered that there were pages or even younger children looking at her as some sort of role model. Was she doing everything a role model should be doing? Did she need to consider that image at all? This was something she normally discussed with Faleron. She'd write him about it along with assurances that she was doing well.

She was doing well. Nightmares were a rare occurrence now even without Faleron there. She'd tell him that and blame the fact that his pillow retained his scent. She wouldn't tell him that she had kept one of his shirts that he had worn and had thrown in for the laundry. She wore it as a night shirt. He would find out eventually, when he came home, but until then it was her little secret that she personally enjoyed.

After one week of helping Kai with his riding, Roald did exactly as he threatened and arranged a ride into the Royal Forest. On that day, Gwen wore at least the jerkin that Roald had had made for her. It was too hot to add the rest but she was in good company amongst a squad of the King's Own as Roald and Kai's guard. After a few quiet minutes of riding, Kai began asking questions about her weapons. She tried answering as well as possible and even noticed some of the men of the Own giving her encouraging smiles as she spoke.

"My papa said you almost died. Does that hurt?" Kai asked after he exhausted all of the weapons she carried on her and Rue.

"Death doesn't hurt in itself," Gwen found the words. "The times I've experienced it, well, there's a gray road shrouded in mist when I've come to it and mostly I'm confused. I don't know why I'm there. If I try and think about why I'm there I get feelings and little bits of images."

"Like when my papa scrys?" Kai piped up. "He sees flashes of pictures at first."

"Yes, but also scents, sounds, touches." She remembered the moment she had become aware that she had pushed someone.

"So that's it?" Kai asked.

"No, that's far from it. There's a choice that has to be made. With healers the choice sometimes becomes clear. The mist parts to one side of the road and shows you which way is to live." She sighed. "It hurts to come back. You walk the road and each step you think you're going the wrong way. I don't know how it feels to go the other way, but each step in the direction towards life brings you closer to the pain your body felt—feels." She stopped. "But that's how I've experienced it. I've heard others say that it's the bottom of a well or that coming back is almost instant."

"It depends on the type of death and the type of healing," Roald explained. "I've heard your gray road story from the men I was around during the Scanran war. Those that were pulled back from the edge, as healers tend to call them.

"We had a man whose heart just stopped," one of the men of the Own added. "When the healers got it started again he said it was instant. But he felt the pain of the healing in life."

"Illness usually accounts for the well," came another man from the Own.

"I suppose that was a long answer," Gwen turned to look at Kai. He was frowning with his brow puckered in deep thought.

"You said the 'times'. Not the 'one time'." He said finally.

"The first time I was there, I wasn't much older than you." Gwen admitted. "And the second time was when I decided to become a page."

"And then when you saved Papa?" Kai asked.

"Yes, and that was the last time," she assured him.

Their ride was uneventful but thrilling enough for Kai that he begged first Roald, then Gwen, then all of the men in the squad of the Own that had gone with them to go again. When they all agreed he started to see how far he could go and pressed for a promise of at least once a week.

"I might not be able to attend all of them," Gwen heard Roald start. This had been anticipated ahead of time and had been negotiated before the ride. If Kai enjoyed the ride they would all make a plan to go at least once a week, but three times a week was the plan. "But Squire Gwen and these fine men of the Own agreed to take you three times a week." Gwen hoped Roald wasn't too upset by how excited Kai was even if his father wasn't sure he'd go with again. He didn't appear upset by his son's enthusiasm at least.

When they returned to the stables, Gwen sat with Kai until his pony was completely wiped down and his tack cleaned. Roald had told both Gwen and Kai that he had been required to care for his own mount when he was big enough to do it. Kai was a little young but he was no less capable as someone found a stool for him to get up high enough to do some of the grooming. She thought it was an excellent idea. By the time Kai became a page, caring for his mount would be second nature and he could focus on other things.

After their first ride, Roald only stayed long enough in the morning to make sure Kai was settled with Gwen on the practice courts and left them to the own devices. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she helped Kai do the heavy work with getting his saddle into place and then led him out to the meeting place where the Own almost always beat them to. Sometimes Roald joined them for the ride, other times Gwen spent that time teaching Kai some of the hand signals that she had learned from the army. She also taught him the different kinds of trees they saw. Kai was like the crystals that mages fed light into. He absorbed the knowledge easily and it showed that he was learning. All she had to do was keep feeding him information and ask him questions about it later. She was sure that by the end of summer, he'd need a tutor just to keep him interested and she told Roald such.

"He has a tutor," Roald informed her. "A tutor that is working with him on reading, writing, and basic math."

"Really? He never mentions having a tutor," Gwen threw herself into the chair opposite of Roald.

"I was hoping, since you do so well with him, that you might want to be his tutor. After your Ordeal, of course," Roald was giving her a look that told her that he wasn't sure of what her answer would be.

"I thought after my Ordeal I'd be on your council," Gwen started to explain her hesitation.

"I'm making it a position on my council, if you decide to take it. Let's discuss what I view your strengths as. First, you have a protective nature that rivals most new mothers in nature without being a mother yourself, yet. You are trained and skilled in all of the weapons and more that pages and squires use. The only weapon Kai is learning that you do not know is the glaive which he learns from his mother. You are extremely intelligent in all matters of subjects. You have a social awareness that most courtiers would kill to possess. You studied diplomacy at my side. You know both sides of the coin for most ten year olds. You know the Convent, you know the page training program. You're patient, more so than most adults that I know. You treat Kai like a small adult and don't sit there questioning why I put him into all of this younger than even I did it." Roald paused and took a breath. "I would be a fool not to offer the position to you. If you want to take it, that is. But I would warn you, should you take the position, when my other children come of a good age to start book learning and training, you'd add them to your work load."

"I like teaching Kai," Gwen admitted finally. "And you're right. It does seem like a good fit. Perhaps a trial run once I am knighted to see if it is a good match?"

"I have no doubts you'd enjoy it once you're in a position to enjoy it. But we can certainly do some sort of trial run. You've already found you like teaching him riding and weapons, and hand signals, and trees from what I hear. I doubt you'd have a hard time finding a love of teaching him the rest."


	40. Chapter 40

Gwen smiled at her charge as he successfully named off not only the trees that they passed but also managed to communicate with the men of the Own that traveled with them the different combinations of words she whispered to him. On top of that, he knew all of the parts to his saddle and if his saddle was lifted up for him, he could do up all of the straps. He could also name all of the parts of his pony accurately. He loved learning and she loved helping him along. She had no doubt that Roald was right, she would enjoy teaching and she'd enjoy being the Royal Tutor. It helped that Kai would be working towards his page training and she could do physical work with him as well and take him out to do learning. It helped that Roald was certain his other two children, a daughter and another son, would be doing the physical training as well no matter what path they chose in the future. And she guessed there would be more children. Shinko wasn't wearing a pregnancy charm yet and they were both still very young.

They turned to round back to the palace, in high spirits. It was one of their last outings together due to the men of the Own that rode with them planning a trip to the desert to do some recruiting with their company soon. Kai understood why they had to go and why it meant they needed to stop this particular activity because of it. Gwen had checked and checked again but no other companies of the Own were in the palace or coming back any time soon. It was likely that no one would be back before the start of fall. She'd find other outings for him and would come up with other lessons.

Before they got too far, Gwen felt a shift in the air. She felt a shiver running down her spine and her adrenaline spiking. Sparing a glance around she noticed the other men in the squad seemed to feel it too. Even Kai was suddenly quiet. The sergeant signaled for everyone to be on alert and they repositioned so that Kai was completely surrounded by armed warriors. The horses started to shift uneasily. Kai's pony bucked suddenly just as a sticky green rope dropped from the trees above. Kai was thrown from his pony's back but the ugly greenish rope caught on the pony's mane. Gwen threw herself down from Rue's back to grab for Kai while one of the men of the Own hacked away at the web with his sword.

"Spidren, get Kai out of here. We'll bring his pony later," the sergeant called to her. She threw Kai onto Rue's saddle and jumped up behind him. The formation broke just long enough for her to get through. Rue broke into a gallop without her even asking and it was all she could do to keep one arm around Kai and another hand on the reins. Part of her wanted to stay and fight and not run away but Kai was her main responsibility and getting him to safety came first.

"But my pony!" Kai cried.

"I know, Sweet," Gwen squeezed out of a tight throat. "They'll bring him when they come back." Despite their breakneck speed, Gwen felt pursued. She didn't dare take too long to look to the trees as they sped down the tree enclosed road. On instinct Rue dodge to the left missing a dropped web and then to the right as another came down. It confirmed her fears. Worse, she couldn't do too much about it. At this speed she couldn't string her bow or reliably shoot and Kai was tucked in front of her for his protection, she wouldn't be able to shoot over him.

Damn, damn, damn, damn, she thought over and over again. She hoped Rue could continue to dodge. Between her and Kai they weren't even close to Rue's full carry potential so she hoped he didn't wear out before they were clear of the woods. Even now if she strained her eyes she could see the small dot of light that was the end of the road. They just needed to make it clear of the trees and then they were on palace grounds where guards and warriors roamed and Spidren were slower with less trees about. Dodge left, left, right, left again. She guessed there were at least two on her tail, one on each side. Her heart was racing. How many of the monstrous creatures had they left behind for the Own to deal with? What would happen if she left these followers in her wake for them to deal with? Why did they pursue her so? Well that was an answer she had. She was a small looking woman with a child in front of her. They appeared to be easy pickings. On top of that, she was sure they smelt fear and she did fear for the safety of Kai and she was sure Kai was terrified. Her ears were deaf to all but what moved above them so she didn't hear his whimpers against her chest but she did feel him pull closer to her. Right, right, left, left, right, the little dot was growing ever closer. Just a little longer and they were free.

The light was blocked as something dropped down between them and it. She knew without looking too hard that it was another spidren. This one was large even by spidren standards. She thought Rue would balk but he kept moving forward. The path was too small. They wouldn't make it past. Without realizing how it got there she found her sword in her hand. The spidren in front of her came fully into view and she could see its ugly smile as they neared. It didn't drop a web or a net but it did reach out several clawed arms towards them. At the last second Rue pressed even faster and twisted to try and bring them out of range. Gwen felt her sword hit and felt something burn across her bicep. She heard a shriek from the creature they passed but they were long out of range of it before it could truly retaliate. Then with a burst they were out in the light at the edge of the forest. Rue didn't slow as they made for the palace, for safety. To her divine luck the trail came out close to the Own's barracks and close to their training grounds. It was the main reason the squad always beat them to the meeting point.

"Spidren! Spidren in the forest!" She bellowed as they rounded on the courts. She reined Rue to slow down as she saw men turn to sprint for the stables.

"Squire Gwen?" She turned to the speaker to find Captain Domitan. "What's this? Where's the squad?"

"In the forest still. We were attacked by spidren. I don't know how many. At least two pursued us and another got in our way," she rushed through the explanation. Before she got far she saw horses filing out of the stables with half armored men stringing bows on their backs. Whatever anyone said about the Own and Third Company in particular, they were extremely fast.

"You're bleeding," Dom told her finally. "Get to the infirmary and take Prince Kaito with you. Leave your mount here, I'll make sure he's taken care of."

"Thank you." Gwen managed to hand Kai down to Dom and sheathed her sword before dismounting. She took Kai back when she was on the ground and then took off at a quick walk towards the infirmary. "Are you hurt?" She asked as they walked. There was no answer but she could feel Kai shaking and she guessed he was crying into her shoulder. It wasn't reassuring so she walked faster. Those in the halls after she entered the palace got out of her way as she went past.

The infirmary was quiet when they entered and she saw Sir Neal sitting at his father's desk with his feet up reading a book. Without the pages around and most of Court still away, the infirmary was nice and quiet and not expecting anything. When Neal did look up to see who entered he did a double take, threw the book down and started asking questions. Gwen answered as best she could. The noise from Neal brought Baird out of one of the supply rooms.

"Squire Gwendolyn is bleeding. When a person walks in bleeding we question them as we heal," Baird told his son. "Is Kaito also hurt?"

"I don't know. It may be shock more than anything else." Gwen reluctantly handed over her charge to Baird. She saw he didn't appear to be hurt. "He did fall from his pony." She added as she remembered. There was no blood but he was crying and he looked at her completely dismayed as Baird tried to walk him into another room.

"Gwen is coming too," Baird assured the boy.

"Come on Gwen, before we both get in trouble," Neal murmured in her ear. She was ushered into the room and sat in a chair by the door while Kai was placed up on the examination table. Baird gave him a once over while Gwen endured Neal prodding at the rip in her shirt and right bicep with his Gift. She related the story as best she could once for Baird and Neal and then again as Roald barged through the door.

"Minor bruises. You're lucky young man," Baird informed Kai. "Falling from a bucking pony can do much worse."

"Well a spidren scratch will put a dampener on your training for a couple of days. It cut pretty deep but I can heal it," Neal informed her. "This may sting." She watched as the flesh on her arm knit itself back together layer by layer until shiny pink skin covered the area. "There, you won't even scar. But give it a day or two for the skin to stretch a bit." Neal helped her up. "Tea for your nerves I think," he told her. Roald was already hugging Kai but reached for Gwen and pulled her in for a hug.

"Can we go give Rue apples?" Kai asked when Roald let them go. "He was so brave."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Roald informed him. "Gwen?" He was holding Kai on his hip but he held out a hand for Gwen.

"I'd better go swipe some apples for him then. I'll meet you two there." She gave a shaky smile. Adrenaline and healings always made her tremble slightly. By the time she made it to the kitchens to get apples and out to the stables Kai and Roald had already fully thanked the horse verbally. Apples were offered and then Gwen was given a moment to do her own thank you. She hugged Rue around the neck and was pleasantly happy to see he had been fully groomed while she was in the infirmary. She murmured praises to her horse. He was wonderful. He was so smart. She owed him her life and that of the Prince.

In reality she wondered how soon her luck would run out. Most people would call her completely unlucky for how many terrible things seems to find her, yet she always survived and relatively unscathed. How soon before she chanced her luck and died, or worse got her charge killed?

"Shinko wants to see Kai," Roald told Gwen when she stepped out of Rue's stall. "Will you be okay on your own for a while?" She nodded. She had to be okay. In reality it was nothing more than a fright and a small cut. She waved to Kai and waited until they were gone before she walked out to the Own's barracks and training yards, and waited.

After twenty minutes of waiting roughly forty men of the Own came out mounted and between them came Kai's little pony looking slightly worse for the wear. The sergeant she worked well with saw her waiting and separated from the group to bring Kai's pony over.

"Seven of the damned things. I saw two follow you when you took Kaito and we tried to shoot them down… but you know how those blasted things can be." The sergeant's eyes drifted to the tear in her shirt and the blood on it but the clean skin under.

"Must have been a total of eight then. One blocked our exit too. Sir Nealan was kind enough to make sure I wouldn't even have a scar." She touched the tear in her sleeve. "Anyone lost? Injuries?"

"We did well enough and backup coming nearly as fast as it did was a blessing. We did a scour of the area for more but no nests that we are aware of. The Captain is getting some Rider Groups to help us canvas the whole area just to make sure. Eight spidren this close to the palace is a bad thing." He turned his mount to bring it back to the stables. "Might want to check the pony over. I think its hurt where that web was."

After Gwen saw to Kai's pony and made sure the stable hands were aware it needed Stefan to come look him over, Gwen wandered up to her rooms. The question of how long she would be lucky for played over and over in her mind as she walked over to her desk and unlocked the drawer Faleron's ring was in. One day her luck would run out, it always did, and she wanted to be officially Faleron's long before then. She extracted the ring from its box and slid it up her left ring finger. After a moment she felt the band tighten and settle so that it wouldn't move without her moving it. It was a handy spell that almost every ring maker in the city put on their more precious rings. It spared the rings from having to be resized constantly.

"Gwen?" She heard a familiar voice come from the bedroom and prayed to the Goddess she hadn't lost her mind. What was the date? It was the end of August. Faleron wasn't due back for another week at least. Could this be a trap? Was this the end of her luck? But the door opened from the bedroom to her study and there was Faleron in the flesh looking travel worn but no worse for the wear. She threw herself into his arms and buried her face against his dirt and sweat stained shirt. She felt his hand move down over her sleeve and pause at the rip before he pulled her back to examine it. "Gwen, this blood looks recent." He rolled up her sleeve to inspect her arm completely but she knew he'd find no mark.

"Neal fixed it," she told him when his eyes settled on the fresh pink skin. She felt his hands move down both of her arms to take her hands and waited. He hadn't seen her put on the ring and he didn't seem to have eyes for anything else in the room besides her, so he seemed to have missed the open box sitting on the desk. He gripped her hands and squeezed and then she saw his eyes light up. He lifted her left hand to examine it more closely and then grinned at her.

"When? How long have you been wearing it?" He pulled her in for a kiss before she could answer.

"Just now," she nodded to the box.

"Perfect," he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. "I missed you." He told her, his voice firm and laughing at the same time. She was deposited on the bed with a poof. "I need to bathe and change before I can properly greet you," he sighed.

"I should too," Gwen admitted. She always returned from the rides sweaty and dirty and this time she also had blood on her clothes. "Have you eaten?"

"Trying to take care of me already?" He teased. She raised an eyebrow letting him know she still expected an answer. "No, I skipped midday to get here faster."

"Why the hurry?" Gwen asked.

"I wanted to get home to my betrothed," he grinned as he said the words.

"Alright you bathe, I'll go find something for you to eat," Gwen pushed herself up off of the bed.

"Better idea. You and I both bathe. I have a room with a bath in it too," he reminded her. "Then I beg Roald for your evening free and I take you to dinner."

A little over an hour later, Gwen was dressed in a summer gown, made up, had her hair pinned, and was wearing jewelry. Faleron came back from speaking with Roald and drew her into arms to hold her tight.

"He told me what happened today," Faleron told her before letting her go. "Let's go to dinner so I can show the world my beautiful lady." He threaded her arm though his and pulled her close.

Though Gwen had been invited to dinner once by Nik, she had never actually been to dinner with a man out in the city. But Faleron wasn't about to make this feel like an uncomfortable first dinner. He told her all about his patrol as they walked and drew details out of her about her plan for Kai's education as they were seated in one of the upscale eating houses. Faleron refused to let her sit opposite of him at the table. He had the table rearranged so the two of them could sit side by side. He kept her tucked against him and happily informed their servers that they were celebrating a betrothal. They enjoyed some wine, compliments of the house for their celebration, and fig stuff quail that Faleron recommended.

"So what business had you at King's Reach? You still haven't told me," she asked when they were finishing up dinner.

"Oh, well that simple. I went to get some business in order and make sure everything was in good repair. And I discussed my upcoming betrothal with my mother. She's interested in meeting you. She said something like, 'King's Reach could use a brilliant young lady as its Countess.'" He turned to look at her face. She was sure her jaw had dropped open in shock. "I know, I nearly made that face too. It seems that she is not only thrilled that I'm settling down, but also that I found a beautiful young lady who knows how to be a lady while also knows the weapon side of things."

"Are we thinking about the same woman?" Gwen asked feeling as though Faleron had flipped her world around.

"We are. She has been getting requests from her ladies to learn weapons. They want to be able to be eligible for the Queen's Ladies." He cupped her face to kiss her. "I did explain your position here at the palace after you wrote me about Roald's offer. She thinks it's just a beautiful sign that you teach young royals and she's taught Roald's sisters. She wants your permission to keep the school running after we marry."

"Why my permission?" Gwen asked feeling like for once she had no answers.

"With my father gone, I'll inherit the title of Count when we marry and you'll be Countess. My mother will be Countess Dowager. The school is the responsibility of the Countess. That will be you. So you get first and last say." Faleron reminded her.

"Oh. Of course she can keep her school. I can find an arm's master for the ladies if she wants."

"I'll relay that request," Faleron smiled. "My beautiful diplomat." He kissed her and pulled her in closer. "I think we should order dessert."


	41. Chapter 41

Roald sat at the practice courts by the fence waiting. Gwen was late but he guessed she might be. A lover returning could have that sort of effect on even the most prompt people. He saw her come out the door at a sprint and then slow when she saw him standing alone. He knew exactly what she was wondering. Kai was not with him.

"Kai's not coming down today. Maybe not tomorrow either," Roald explained when she drew near. "He had terrible nightmares last night, understandably, so Shinko banished the nursemaids with the other children and is letting him sleep while it's light out." Gwen nodded her understanding. It was completely understandable to have nightmares, child or adult, when faced with a spidren for the first time, let alone a spidren that wants to eat them. He and Shinko had expected the nightmares and had waited for them. When they thought they might be in the clear, Kai finally came into their bedroom and climbed into their bed. He had tried to be brave as long as possible but he just couldn't be in his room anymore. Roald had held him and assured him that he was the bravest five year old he had ever known.

"Poor Kai, is there something you want me to do for him?" Gwen asked. Roald didn't try to hide his smile. The report that had come back was clear. Gwen had gotten down to retrieve Kai from the ground when his pony spooked. Gwen had taken direction to get Kai to the palace and had literally galloped with it. She may have claimed her horse did all of the dodging but she kept her and Kai in the saddle. Then she faced down a spidren in front of them, earning her own wound, albeit minor, and managed to get to safety and help all at once. She got his son to the infirmary and then played along in making him feel better by thanking Rue. Then reports came that she went to receive her own report and took care of Kai's pony. If Faleron hadn't shown up to ask for Gwen's evening off, Roald would have given it anyway.

He was surprised that Faleron had been there but not really. He knew that Faleron was worried about Gwen. The last few letters Roald had received from his best friend had included a few lines regarding Gwen's letters as possibly fiction, that she might be lying about her health and lack of nightmares. Roald had gone to check on her once and had sat in her study listening as she slept. There were no sounds of nightmares and when he did sneak in to see if she was alright, he saw her burying her face in what he was sure was Faleron's pillow and with the covers kicked off a little he guessed that she was wearing Faleron's shirt. She wasn't having nightmares but it was clear she was missing Fal, so he had written that.

"Did you two have a nice dinner last night?" Roald asked when Gwen shifted uncomfortably in front of him. His thoughts must have taken too long to process and she was likely itching to go practice.

"Very nice. Fal took me to a very nice place in the city," she grinned and he saw her shift slightly. The sun glinted off something on her left hand. When he looked to see what it was, he stared openly. Gwen was wearing the betrothal ring. When had that happened? Had Faleron said anything when he came to ask for her night off? No. He simply had said he wanted to take her to dinner. Roald had assumed it was to spend time together after they had been apart but could it have been in celebration? Wouldn't Fal have told him that? Gwen seemed to notice his gaze and he could see her shifting back and forth between trying to hide the ring and not.

"It's a beautiful ring. Faleron didn't tell me what it looked like." Then he realized that he hadn't told her how happy he was to see them betrothed. "Congratulations. We'll have to celebrate somehow." He told her and saw her blush. Dinner, dinner had been their celebration. He knew that now.

"Gwen, did you sprint down here? I told you I would be right behind and I clearly didn't catch up," Faleron's voice came from behind them. Roald turned to look at the man and saw his easy smile stretching from ear to ear. Faleron was one deliriously happy looking man. If Gwen wearing his ring meant that much to him, Roald could understand how she had been late this morning.

"I didn't want to be any later than I already was," she explained to him and to Roald.

"I was just congratulating your betrothed," Roald turned to give Faleron a handshake and a raised eyebrow. Faleron blushed faintly. Yes, it had happened before he had gone to see Roald or he would look so sheepish now. "Are you two going to announce it? Well, I mean of course you two will announce it. Anything you two do seems to be public information." He chuckled slightly at how absurd it was that the gossip was always full of Gwen and Faleron and their doings together when both were in residence. "I mean, I'm sure the whole gossip chain will have a field day with the two of you bed." He laughed and went on. "When are you announcing it? Have you decided?" He turned to look from Faleron to Gwen and saw Gwen was now staring at the ground looking very red. "What's this? What did I say?"

Roald thought back over it and paused. They had been celebrating their betrothal. He had just made a joke about them bedding. Damn, he thought. They had probably celebrated their betrothal a little more enthusiastically than he had been willing to think and he had just embarrassed Gwen by not even guessing but by briefly mentioning their night's activities.

"Why don't you go do your run?" Faleron urged Gwen. "Unless you're too tired from sprinting down here?" She bowed, turned, and went to start her run.

"I didn't mean to upset her. I wasn't thinking," Roald sighed looking to Faleron. "I really didn't think that one through."

"Of all of the days you pick to say it," Faleron rolled his eyes. "She doesn't regret it, but she's skittish in her own way."

"Well, are you two going to announce it?" Roald asked trying to smooth over his lapse in judgment.

"That we've bedded? Are you insane?" Faleron demanded.

"I meant the betrothal," Roald rolled his eyes. Certainly, Faleron would know better but then again his joke had just been that it would be public information when they did bed. "I really didn't mean to bring the other thing out into the open. I hope to Mithros that the gossip chain has no idea."

"They've thought it for a long time. I have no doubts they will attribute whatever they think they see as 'happily betrothed'," Faleron sighed. "I had hoped you would do that too. And I am far happier that she is wearing the ring openly than our nightly activities."

"If she hadn't balked, I wouldn't have known." He bit his lip wondering if he dare say his other comment. Seeing that Gwen was still far enough away and that Faleron was clearly aware there was more to be said, he let it come out. "Was it really that bad that you're not as happy about it as you are about a ring on her finger?" After a moment Faleron let out a deep chuckle.

"Oh Gods no, I thought she'd be timid about it but…" Roald stopped him realizing where this conversation was going with a bit of panic.

"I've decided I don't want to know more. Please don't tell me about your sex life."

"You've never forbid me from sharing before. As I recall you used to enjoy sharing information like that," Faleron teased.

"She's like my little sister. I'm happy that she's happy and I'm happy that you, my best friend, are happy. But Goddess and Mithros above I do not want to hear details about your happiness in the bedroom." He found himself laughing with Faleron. "Well, again, are you two going to announce your betrothal?" Roald knew there was protocol for announcing betrothals and usually there was a lot of pomp and fuss that went with it.

"I believe we will have to," Faleron jammed his hands into his pockets. "We just haven't had much of a chance to talk about it. There wasn't a lot of productive conversation after I saw you yesterday."

"Let me know when you two plan to do it," Roald held up his hands hoping to stop Faleron before the conversation deteriorated back to the other topic again. "Extend my apologies to Gwen." He started to walk away when he heard Faleron's voice very clearly.

"Or you could talk to her yourself and possibly prove you're still in shape instead of skipping out on exercises." When Roald turned to look at him, Faleron was already starting to jog towards where Gwen was to join her in her run. He had heard from Gwen and from the spy that had followed Gwen on to border patrol the first time, that Faleron had joined Gwen in her dawn exercises.

"Are you just going to let him taunt you like that?" Roald nearly jumped and then turned to see Neal standing nearby.

"And why are you sneaking up on the King?" Roald asked.

"Well for one, I saw you talking to your pretty little squire right before she decided to go for a run. And then I realized she's normally out here practicing at this hour and she starts with a run. And then I remembered that I healed up her arm yesterday, and after that healing I may have mentioned to her that she should take today off of practice." Roald saw the hint of fire and humor both flicker in Neal's eyes. As a healer, he could be a bit scary if he felt his instructions were being ignored.

"She's been a bit distracted since yesterday. Fal returned and they're betrothed now…" Roald hoped that information would deflect some of the lecture that was due to come.

"I'll just have to remind her then. And look, she's circling back. She must have seen me and remembered."

Gwen's sheepish look as she slowed told Roald she had indeed forgotten. Unlike her other injuries in the past that had left her restricted, this one was all but erased visibly and likely in feeling too. Faleron caught up to her and stopped. He looked briefly between Neal and Gwen before he smacked himself in the head.

"Restrictions." He sighed looking back at Neal. "I'm sorry I didn't realize there might be restrictions from your healing when I asked if we could do this together today," he turned back to Gwen and kissed her temple. "Perhaps lessons would be a better use of your time."

"She doesn't exactly have much more to learn after all of the bed rest she's had this last year. I have almost no doubts if something were to happen to Shinko and myself, she could run the country without blinking an eyelash." Roald rolled his eyes. "Take the day off. You two talk about the announcement."

Roald went back to his study after they left and sat looking at the document still rolled up in front of him. It was his will should he perish. It was the document that all warriors knew well. Until this point he had had no need to write his own will. As a member of royalty his will was usually set in stone. As the Crowned Prince his belongings had belonged to his parents or his siblings before his marriage, his wife and children after his marriage. More so, they belonged to the crown and not technically to him. Succession was given by his father in his will. But as King now, he was required to have a will that was up to date at all times listing his succession plan and more importantly, the regents should he and Shinko both perish before Kai or any of his siblings were of age. It was this line that he had yet to fill in. He needed to write in the names of those he'd leave responsible for not running his country into the ground.

Traditionally, that job went to the relatives of the King and he had enough siblings to cover it should he choose. But his brothers had their own interests and none of them seemingly were interested in running the country. It seemed, from the few conversations he had had with them about it, they didn't envy him in the least. His sisters were focused on their own lives. The only sibling he would have listed would have been Kalasin, his partner in crime until he had entered page training, but she was in Carthak as Kaddar's Empress.

The regents needed to be both trained in how the Crown worked while also have the best interest of the heir and the country in mind. There was such a short list of people that he could trust he worried about the duties he'd drag them from should it come down to that. Kel would have been a great regent but she was slated to be the next Knight Commander of the King's Own. Neal on his own was a bad choice simply because his tongue still got him into trouble though with Yuki standing nearby he couldn't fully count them out. But something else had dawned on him when he had been talking to Gwen and Faleron about her studies. Gwen knew the inner workings of the Crown. She knew the intricate workings that created the entire workings of the country. She already cared for Kai and had shown she would protect him. She had also pretty much agreed to be his tutor should she survive her Ordeal. He had no doubt she'd do as much justice for his other children if given the opportunity.

And who to put with her was a question that sounded more like a joke. Of course he knew who to pair her with. Gwen would pair with Faleron should it come to that. King's Reach was a pillar of the Kingdom, historical and contemporary facts showed they had always been loyal to Conte. Most of all, Faleron was loyal to Roald. He would not only serve Roald's children but he'd honor whatever wishes Roald had had for the country. And Faleron knew laws and history inside out and back again. Faleron and Gwen would work well together because they had already proven to work well together.

There would be concerns. They would be a married couple, likely with their own children within the next five years. There was a chance some might see a potential threat of Gwen and Faleron being the regents. There were always concerns of such things when someone unrelated yet powerful came to the throne. There would be worry that they would put their own children in place above the heir. He knew they wouldn't. Chances were his children would be raised alongside their children. With Faleron as his Champion and Gwen as his children's tutor, they would be at court and not in a position to raise their children at King's Reach. As to the concerns of them wanting the Crown for themselves, his experiences told him neither of them seemed envious of his position. Perhaps there would be worry they would drain the treasury on frivolous shows of wealth and power. It happened often when there was elevation to such a high position. But he knew they both preferred simple pleasures and both were wealthy in their own rights. The last time he had asked about Gwen's finances, he had been astounded at the amount she had banked from her investments. She used little of it and now that Merrywood was nice and repaired, her parents weren't taking from it either. Likely that money wouldn't even be added to the King's Reach treasury that was nearly as impressive as the Royal Treasury.

He would need to explain his choice to Shinko. He knew she had thought Yuki should be involved somehow especially since she was bound to Tortall by marriage and carried the name of a Tortallan fiefdom instead of a Yamani noble house. He knew that Gwen and Faleron would never turn down help from friends but they would ultimately be responsible for the position.

As much as he wanted to write in their names, he knew he needed to speak to Shinko first. He needed to speak to her about his reasons and the things he saw in both of his friends that made them the best choices should he and Shinko perish. He needed her to agree because it involved their children and their country. Shinko may not have been bound to the country by the magic of the land or by birth, but she was the Queen and her input mattered. Still this was a rough draft and he could pen their names in now so that he remembered to speak with her before it was written up and notarized by the official clerks in the Royal Magistrates Office. He rolled open the scroll that fell over the top of his desk with how much he had had to figure out recently. As he scanned for the blank line he found it was no longer blank. 'Sir Faleron of King's Reach and Lady Gwendolyn of Merrywood' were penned into the line in Shinko's handwriting followed by 'Sir Nealan and Lady Yukimi of Queenscove' as secondary choices should Faleron and Gwen be unable to carry out the duty either by death or mental instability. He smiled down at the paper. Of course she was ahead of him in his reasoning. Shinko always seemed to know his mind. Sometimes even before he knew fully what he wanted. It was one of the many reasons he loved her so. Now all that he needed to set it completely in stone was to inform Faleron and Gwen of his decision, but that could wait until later, after he checked on his son and went to show his wife his appreciation.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: Hello it's me again! Couple of pieces of housekeeping. First, all recognizable people, places, and events belong to the beautifully talented Tamora Pierce. Second of all, it was brought up that I do not have the correct gender and name for the first born child of Roald and Shinko. This is simply because I did not know. I know, it's blasphemy. I go simply by the published works of Tamora Pierce and did not go internet diving to read any additional information she has since provided. (For those of you who might have no idea as well or in hopes I'm not the only one, you can check out this information at TPwords wordpress. Google that stuff). So I assumed that Lianokami was simply fanfic canon generally and widely accepted by all. I apologize to the purists out there. I was uninformed and since this is the second, yes second, story in which I name the first born to be a son named Kaito (Kai for short) and this is the first I've heard of it... after 432 pages of typed and published chapters. I'm just going to roll with it. I shall amend it in future publications. Thirdly, as always please read, review, pm, favorite, follow... all of that fun stuff because it comes to my phone while I'm working and brings me to Tortall with a smile on my face and an itch to keep writing.**

Traditionally, noble betrothals were announced before the entire court, to the royalty with a request for a blessing. In arranged marriages, the announcement came when the contract came into play, either at a certain age or under specific circumstances. In love matches, it was when a betrothal was in place. The couple was announced together before a gathered court in the throne room with their intent, and then they would walk before the monarchs and wait to receive a blessing on their union. The most common times for these announcements were Midwinter and Midsummer when the outlying nobles came in to celebrate the holiday and when such contracts came into play or were created. It was normal to approach the monarchs with the assumption the union was already agreed to and the blessing would be given. In a much different time, the practice had been for the King and/or Queen to approve or disapprove the marriage. As the country had progressed, that power had been downplayed. Roald and Shinko still had the right to deny the marriage of any two people to come before them, but they likely wouldn't. They had no reason to deny marriages anymore. They had no reason to believe another's union could threaten their own. But still there was always a slight anxiety that they would refuse to bless the union.

Despite being told that Roald and Shinko absolutely approved of their betrothal before they even officially announced it, Gwen still shifted anxiously in her dressing room. She wore a gown for the occasion and she needed to pick out which jewels to wear to go with it. Her face was already painted, her hair already pinned, and her silk slippers were already on her feet. The ring was on her finger but earbobs, a necklace, and a bracelet were not in place and she was too worried to think about it.

"You're overthinking again," Faleron told her, shifting behind her to grab his clothes from the clothing rack at her back.

"He has every right to change his mind and deny the betrothal," Gwen turned to look at Faleron. He was standing in his loincloth fresh out of the bath. "I'm his squire."

"And he loves you like a sister and would deny you almost nothing. He wants you happy and he's convinced he owes you rewards a thousand times over for nearly everything you have done for him and still continue to do. He won't deny you your marriage," Faleron explained. "Where's that circlet you wore for Midsummer last year?"

"Why?" Gwen turned to fish it out of its proper drawer.

"Well, my darling, it's common for those who are announcing their betrothals to somehow represent the house they come from. You're in your fief's colors with that gown but the jewelry could further your image at least. And with a name like Merrywood, that's the easy part." He took the circlet from her fingers and lowered it carefully over her pinned hair. He plucked at her hair a bit and then shifted her out of the way as he dug through the rest of her jewelry. Emerald earbobs and an emerald and silver necklace were extracted from the drawers and handed to her. "Now go, so I have room to get dressed." He shooed her from the dressing room into the bedroom.

When she went to look in the mirror she saw the minor changes he had made to her hair. She had originally braided both sides back and had coiled the braids into an intricate loose bun. Now the circlet sat on top of the braids tilting over the hairline. While he had made it sit right, she sat down to change the look even more. She tugged at the tight braids, loosening each twist of hair to fan out a little. She unpinned the back and repinned it in place to wrap over the circlet. The circlet sat across her forehead better and looked more incorporated into her look rather than added at the end.

When Faleron stepped out of the dressing room she saw him as she had on Midsummer. He wore a silk black and purple tunic with the King's Reach shield pinned to it with a purple shirt and black hose underneath. He smiled at her sitting at her vanity. Color wise the two of them didn't match up very well. Merrywood's colors were green and gray against his purple and black. They didn't clash as some fiefs did, but they weren't very complimentary.

"Are you ready?" He asked when he saw her stand while fastening the necklace.

"Am I ever ready to face Court?" She asked with a sigh. With a laugh he took her arm and steered her from the room. "Any idea what the gift will be?" In addition to the blessing, the King and/or Queen usually gave a gift to the couple. Usually it was something small to show their approval of the marriage. Some couples received purses, others jewels, grants. There was little favoritism due to the publicity of it all and usually the gifts were identical for all couples being presented. Roald had told them they were the only couple that had planned their announcement for this time but that didn't mean they weren't getting a traditional gift.

"No idea," Faleron told her. "Roald is his normal secretive self."

"Roald isn't secretive, he's quiet," Gwen turned to look up at Faleron and found his lips already on hers. "I know there is no way to do this quietly but I still hope no one makes a big deal." She sighed pulling back.

"I'm going to make a big deal. I'm going to tell the world you're mine," Faleron told her. "I'm proud of you and I'm proud to have you." He leaned down to kiss her temple.

The throne room would be full as this was the time of year that nobles often at Court returned from summering elsewhere. Gwen hesitated when the doorman beckoned to them and the pushed open the door. He was already aware of their titles and intent so they only needed to step forward when he called for them. He raised the cane in his hand and tapped it down on the marble stairs three times to call the attention of the room.

"Sir Faleron of King's Reach and the Lady Squire Gwendolyn of Merrywood requesting a blessing on their betrothal," he called out. His voice carried as Faleron pulled her forward. There was an excited murmur that ran through the nobles gathered. It got louder as they stepped fully into view and started to descend the staircase. Gwen had seen these sorts of things done a hundred times over Midsummer and Midwinter. Never was there so much whispering going on as there was now. They started down the steps and Gwen started to remember the ceremony that followed this moment. Roald was bound by a script and they were to accept whatever he gave them graciously. She could see Roald's face from where they were already and she wished she could wipe that smug look off of his face.

"Your Majesties," Faleron separated from her and bowed while she curtsied. His deep voice carried throughout the room and the whispers fell silent again. "We come to request your blessing on our betrothal."

This was the point where Gwen imagined young lords and ladies long ago that stood there waiting for the King or Queen to tell them 'no' they couldn't marry. It was documented that it had happened enough where a king was in love with the young lady despite his marriage or a queen wished to have all young men available. There were times of war when all betrothals were banned to ensure men enlisted or had fewer qualms about leaving. And Roald had a right to tell them 'no' now. She was his squire and it was his best friend. Until she was a knight, it was improper for them to be conducting a relationship. She had not forgotten that he had not wanted them to share a bed when she had first come back though he had been aware that Faleron's presence had helped her. He admitted that he did not condone their physical relationship but was turning a blind eye after becoming fully aware of how traumatized she really was. He might have been excited for them the day before when he had first found out it was no longer a future thing but a current one, but perhaps he had had time to think. He had had time to realize they were out of line carrying this out before her Ordeal. She should have waited. She didn't know what she'd do if he told them he could not bless their union or permit it in the least.

"No one can deny that you two are well suited for each other," Roald started, his voice carrying just as easily as Faleron's had. It wasn't the script. There would have been reassurance in the script so of course it was denied. Faleron's hand reached out to find hers and she squeezed it wanting something comforting. She stood there waiting for the 'but' that seemed destined to follow. "This is an unusual situation," she heard his voice again and she looked up wanting him to read the look on her face and hurry it up. She could see Faleron out of the corner of her eye no longer smiling at his friend either. "Sir Faleron, Squire Gwendolyn," Roald stood and walked towards them. When he arrived at their level, he reached down and took their entwined hands. "An unusual situation, an unusual couple, calls for something a bit unorthodox."

His magic sparked between their entwined hands blue edged with the silver of the land. Gwen felt the terrible sensation of fire burning through her veins. She could hear the nobles responding positively to something as they began to applaud but her mind was fixed on the fire as it became something more. It wove through her arm and into her chest. Whatever this was, it didn't feel like a blessing. It felt like the torture spell. She felt her knees give under her and slam into the marble floor with a bruising force. The burn withdrew suddenly.

"Gwen?" She heard Roald ask. She looked up to see he was sitting forward in his throne frowning at her. Faleron knelt down by her looking concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked cupping her cheek.

"What did he do to us?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Nothing yet. He was explaining to court why he was breaking tradition when you just—went down." Faleron put the back of his hand against her forehead.

"I swore… the spell…" she looked around and saw an unwelcome familiar face in the crowd: Twitch. And standing beside him was someone hauntingly familiar too, the mage that had spelled her in Tusaine. She cried out a warning as she saw him give a tiny wave of his fingers at her with a brown spark and the burning sensation wrapped around her chest again, pressing against her heart, her lungs, burning her up from the inside, intensifying a hundred then a thousand fold. She knew nothing else as it ate away at her insides and raw screams erupted from her throat trying to expel it.

Fire was doused by ice once more and she gasped for the air that came to her lungs. Her eyes refocused and she was on the ground of the throne room staring up at Baird. Around them, black glittered in the air, encasing the thrones and those directly in front of it in a dome. Faleron was missing. She wasn't sure where he had gone.

"Is she alive?" She heard Roald ask.

"Yes. She's strong and that spell isn't meant to kill, only torture," Baird leaned back.

"Gwen, who was standing where you were looking right before you collapsed? What did you see?" Roald demanded.

"Twitch and Slight's mage." She breathed out. Her voice was little more than a croak. "Fal?" She tried to turn her head but it was being held in place.

"He is not here Gwendolyn," that was Shinko's voice and she was holding Gwen's head still. "He is involved in the fighting."

"Fighting?" She wanted to sit up, to get answers. What in Mithros name had happened?

"Can she be moved?" Roald asked. She didn't see anyone respond or hear a response but then Roald was at her side. "Let's get going then. I'll carry her." He scooped her up and held her. "Remember, the key is silence. Right now no one can see us." She felt others close in and then they started to move. Trying to look around she noticed overturned potted plants, knocked over decorative statues, and a few fallen wearing green and blue. In the distance she could hear the sound of metal ringing on metal and shouting. There was fighting going on, true fighting inside of the palace and Faleron was somewhere in it.

The halls were deserted but she could see the marks of where nobility had gone running. Askew hangings, rugs turned sideways and raised to trip. They moved slowly and carefully down the hall and then turned abruptly down a hall she had never seen before. Roald looked around and then nodded to Numair who tapped the wall until it opened. Gwen knew almost all of the hidden hallways, passageways, hiding places, and concealed compartments within the newer sections of the palace. The plans to the oldest sections having been lost long ago left them with little more than having to search. This was one of the older sections they were in now and she didn't recognize where they were. Once everyone was inside, the wall closed behind them and Baird raised a green glowing hand for light. They walked through the enclosed hallway where there were multiple doors. Roald carried her through one of the doors and deposited her on a bed.

"I'm going to talk fast. This is one of the safe rooms of the palace. You remember some of the newer ones. This one is laid out with multiple separate rooms." His Gift sparked in his hand and she saw a candle light blue and then the flame changed to a normal yellow orange color. "I was trying to explain why I wasn't following the script to you and Faleron and the rest of Court when you went pale and went down to your knees. Then you looked into the crowd and I saw something on your face right before you called warning. I wasn't the only one. Faleron had his sword drawn before you even started to scream. Baird was at your side less than five seconds after that. And Numair had us encased the moment we saw warriors that didn't belong to the Crown come out of their hiding places." He sighed. "You only decided two days ago to make your betrothal official so they couldn't have planned on using the announcement on purpose."

"The mage was on hand for Gwen. I have no doubts about that," Numair stood in the doorway. "He was there to neutralize her and likely she was to serve as a distraction for those closest and most loyal to you. Perhaps they thought Faleron would be too distracted to properly get involved. Had you not called a warning, we might have been caught a little more off guard than we were."

"Do you think it's Deerwood?" She asked looking to Roald and then Numair.

"Yes. I think it is. But there aren't many men-at-arms attached to that fief or warriors of any kind. They may have hired mercenaries but I think this, like the other attacks on us, was meant to rely on luck. They take you out with the spell. Distract me, Fal, and those paying attention to your screaming rather than what's coming in behind them," Roald sighed. "I have a dreamless sleep draught here if you want to rest." She shook her head. No, she didn't want to sleep right now. She wanted to get out and protect the palace from an invasion like this. Roald must have guessed her thoughts because he cupped her cheek not unlike the way Faleron often did. "I know it's hard to remain here when everyone else is out fighting, especially Fal. But I know you aren't able to fight right now. Baird stopped the spell and fixed the damage but you're still shaking. On top of that you're wearing a full gown and have no weapons on you. It's best for us in here to rest or at least hold vigil until we know it's safe."

"What were you saying when that all happened? Whatever I saw… I don't think it was real." Gwen settled back against the bed realizing that Roald's hand was still cupped over her cheek and his thumb was tracing across something wet. Were her eyes watering?

"I'll talk to you and Fal when I have you both in one place. And there was no need for you to glare at me so when I was speaking. You know I approve and certainly will offer all of the blessings on your marriage that I can offer." Roald grinned at her.

"Should we have waited until after my Ordeal?" Gwen asked. "I think I should have waited until after my Ordeal."

"Tell me why you decided on wearing the ring when you did. Fal couldn't tell me what had changed." Roald pressed.

"It was right after I returned to my rooms from the spidren. I just realized how lucky I always seem to be. And one day that luck will run out. Everyone's luck runs out at some point. I feel like I might be using mine up quickly and I just wanted to be… he was so happy when he realized I was wearing it." Gwen smiled remembering how Faleron's face had lit up.

"Do you realize that my original plan was to wait until after your Ordeal to point Faleron in your direction?" Roald admitted. "Then I saw how you seemed to have the worst luck. You might think you're lucky but so much bad has happened to you and by some grace of the Gods you survive. Gods, Gwen, you deserve to be happy in your life, however short or long it ends up being. That means before your Ordeal, after your Ordeal, now, later, every single moment. And you realized that, which is why there is no question about you waiting until after your Ordeal. Don't try and put it off now because you think I'm unhappy with you."

"Gwen?" Baird's voice was in the doorway. "You need to rest. I can see from here that you are trembling."

"But I need Fal," she looked to Roald and blushed as she admitted it.

"Dreamless sleep draught," he told her calmly. "Until Fal can get here to make the nightmares go away."

"What if Fal…" she swallowed hard as she tried to let the thought out. It was too horrible to say but she knew Roald would get the idea.

"Don't think about it," Roald advised her. No, he wouldn't tell her that Faleron was fine. He wasn't wearing armor. He had charged off into the fighting with only his sword and his clothes. Even properly armed there was always a chance he would be unlucky. "You said he was so happy when he found out you were wearing the ring." Roald reminded her as he uncorked a very small vial. "Tell me about it." He tipped the contents down her throat. She started to describe the moment as the draught took effect. The last image she saw in her mind was the light in Faleron's eyes as he pulled her hands back to make sure he wasn't dreaming.


	43. Chapter 43

Gwen woke long before dawn in someplace familiar: tucked into her own bed. Her gown, she noticed, had been replaced by a nightgown. The last thing she remembered was talking to Roald in the safe rooms hidden inside of the palace walls. That she was back in her room now told her that the halls were safe and she, Baird, Numair, Roald, and Shinko had all been allowed to leave the safe area. But who had carried her to bed? That she was wearing a nightgown and not the night shirt she had been used to wearing, when she decided to wear clothes that was, told her it wasn't Faleron that had been in charge of her clothes. Further evidence to that point was shown with the gown that she had been stripped of being draped carefully over the chair by her bed and not in her closet. Her jewelry was in a pile on the vanity along with her hairpins. Faleron's side of the bed was empty and clearly not slept in. That was odd, Faleron had been staying in bed with her until she woke to cuddle up to her and kiss her awake fully.

Then the full events of the previous night struck her. Faleron had dashed off to get involved in the fighting when it became clear something was happening. Faleron had gone off into the fighting without armor of any kind, in his dress clothes, with just his sword. She sat up and looked around. His dress clothes weren't draped over any chairs. When she got out of bed, they weren't in the closet either. His sword was missing from the weapons rack still. She felt her heart constrict and her stomach twist. She changed into a set of clothes from the closet and stepped out of her room. Her study and sitting room had no answers. There were no notes or any indication of what was going on. She stepped out into the dark hall and looked around. Even the guards that were normally in the hall at this hour were missing.

Gwen pulled out the key she had to Faleron's rooms and let herself in. They too were empty of him, his dress clothes, and his sword. She left and began to wander down the hall towards Roald's study. She hoped that Roald was still awake or that Faleron was there talking with him. But the study was dark and empty of all signs of life. She knew that she could go and see if Roald was in his bedroom but she didn't want to wake him if he was actually asleep. She decided to start to wander down towards the infirmary. Perhaps he had been injured and he was being treated. Perhaps if he wasn't there she could make herself useful until she could get information.

As she turned down the hall that passed one of the ballrooms she saw light spilling from under the doors. Hoping that someone was in there to give her information she pressed the door open. She wasn't prepared for what she saw. The floor was lined with cots with people who were injured. The air was full of the scent of blood, sickness, and the moans and groans of the injured. Amongst those walking between the cots she saw Baird, Neal, and Roald all with the sleeves of their shirts rolled up and splattered with blood. This was the makeshift infirmary for the larger number of injured and all healers available in the palace were on hand. She went to Roald and followed him for a few minutes as he stopped to check on someone and worked a healing. When he stood and turned, he stopped dead at the sight of her.

"You should still be sleeping," he told her kindly. "That spell and the healing. There's a reason I gave you that draught."

"I should be helping," she told him. "I don't have a Gift but I can help. Where do you want me?"

"Check with Baird, he's in charge of this chaos," Roald leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "If you get tired, stop. I don't want you passed out somewhere in this mess."

"Of course," she turned and tracked down Baird. He frowned at her when she approached but heard her out as she explained her need to help. She wasn't about to go back to her rooms and worry until information came. She certainly wouldn't go back to sleep. She needed to be occupied and doing something useful was a start.

"Neal told me you know something about healing herbs?" Baird put a hand on her shoulder and led her towards where the drink tables usually were when there were balls in this room and not injured warriors.

"Yes, Your Grace." She did know something about healing herbs. One didn't grow up in a woodland fief without knowing something about plants and Neal had given her several books on healing herbs that she had read thoroughly in all of her downtime while she had been healing. The table that was set up had piles of packets, vials, and jars of herbs on it.

"We weren't prepared for this." He swept a hand over the length of the room. There were far more injured than she would have guessed. "We're trying to conserve our Gifts for the worst of the wounds. The rest are getting stitched and bandaged by assistants. What I need from you is to follow a recipe and grind poultice for those bandages. Do you think you could manage?"

"Yes, Your Grace." She saw he had a mortar and pestle for her to use set up on the edge of the table with a bunch of empty jars.

"It doesn't take long for each batch but we haven't had anyone we could spare for it. Here's the directions." He handed her a set of written instructions. She took it without further question and went to start gathering what she needed.

After she organized the piles and jars into the right order, she began to work through the directions step by step. She let her mind drown out the noise around her as she crushed herbs and added drops from vials. Her finished product was tipped into bowls and then set to the side. By the time she had the next poultice ready, the bowls were replaced with empty ones. It became a sort of meditation for her during the crushing, adding, and crushing again to create the thick plant paste that was required of her. She let her thoughts empty into the task at hand. After the fifth round, she no longer needed to look at the directions. By the tenth round she was moving automatically through the motions that ultimately filled the bowls. The bowls filled, the bowls left, the bowls returned empty. She didn't let herself think about the moaning and groaning in the room. She didn't think about how many were injured. She didn't think about anything more than filling those bowls.

The sun rose and became visible through the window. Tea was brought around and left next to her by one of Baird's assistants. She was informed she needed to drink it and stop to eat something. A pastry was left next to it and then she was left alone. She ate, drank, and then returned to her work. She began to work again. She found that the paper that held her directions was gone from her work station but she didn't need it. She began to walk through the steps again unaware of the hand that pushed what she needed closer. She moved faster without realizing it. This jar, that packet, two drops of vial one, five drops of vial two… she filled the mortar and then the bowls. After a while, without noticing, she held out her hand as her unknown helper started putting the ingredients right into her grasp.

"Has she taken a break?" She heard a voice ask.

"Only when you sent your assistant over," a voice nearby responded.

She tuned out the rest of the conversation. She didn't want to think of anything else than creating the poultice and helping. She didn't want to think that Faleron could be one of the warriors on those cots receiving the poultice for minor wounds. She didn't want to think he wasn't receiving it because he had a wound that required the reserved Gifts. Or worse, that he didn't need the poultice because his wounds had let him leave for the Peaceful Realms hours before. She didn't want to think about that but now she was. She felt the tears in her eyes but blinked them away. She had to be stronger than that. If she broke down now, the poultice wouldn't get made and then those in need wouldn't get it. She needed to keep going to be helpful. And she needed to be helpful. If she couldn't save Faleron she needed to help fix others.

"Gwen, Roald is getting concerned about your health. He wants you to sit and take a break," Neal's voice broke through her thoughts. "I can take over here for a while." She looked up to meet his eyes.

"Are you going to need much more?" She heard a voice ask nearby. "She's been at this for hours."

"Sadly, yes. Each bowl she produces goes to one set of bandages. You, yourself, have at least four sets of bandages alone. That's one of these full batches." Neal explained with a nod to the mortar and the bowls that were empty next to it.

She turned to look at the nameless hand that had been giving her the ingredients she needed. She blinked once, twice, and then reality set in. Faleron was sitting on a stool next to her with the directions in front of him and his left arm bound up tight with bandages and in a sling. He smiled at her as she stared at him. Her resolve to be strong broke and she felt the tears start to fill up her eyes.

"Why don't you two go find someplace with fresh air? Maybe some food?" Neal's voice barely registered in her brain.

"We'll do that," Faleron stood and wrapped his good arm around Gwen's shoulders to get her moving. "Come, Love, let's follow Roald's orders so neither of us get in trouble."

She let him lead her out of the ballroom through the doors that led out to the gardens. He led her to sit on one of the benches surrounded by late summer roses. Briefly she noticed that the sun was high in the sky and it was likely midday. How had it gotten so late on her? Faleron's good hand entwined with hers and his lips found her temple.

"Roald said you should have still been asleep when you came down to help. He said the draught he gave you should have had you still asleep through the dawn," Faleron started.

"Clearly he overestimated its strength," she felt her voice waver with the tears she was trying to keep from falling. This had to be a daydream. She had to have lost herself so completely in her task that this wasn't real. Did deep enough mediation cause one to hallucinate such thorough dreams? Perhaps it was the combination of being tired, hungry, and meditating through work that caused one to no longer be connected to reality. Perhaps she had fallen asleep at the table and Roald would be mad that she had not gone to take a break and he would find her asleep in the chaos.

"Okay, no talking for now," Faleron sighed. She felt his fingers slide under her chin and tilt her head. His lips found hers. The sensation of his lips on hers brought her back to reality. Faleron was real. He was here in front of her, injured, but no less alive. She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm afraid that I don't have a handkerchief with me to take care of those," Faleron told her as he pulled back. "I don't suppose you have one tucked on you."

"No," Gwen shook her head. "I didn't think of that when I left the room looking for you." She pulled at the sleeve of her shirt and went to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. "What happened to you?" She ran her fingertips over the white bandage that coated his left arm.

"My arm doesn't block swords as well as I'd like," Faleron told her with his face completely straight. "Roald was unhappy enough for the both of you when he came across my cot," he continued.

"Roald was your healer?" Gwen let him put his arm around her waist to pull her against him.

"Shortly after dawn he became my healer. I thought a lecture from Neal was bad. Turns out he's a treat. But then again Neal isn't the one who drugged you into sleeping for a few hours." Faleron sighed. "We argued. I argued it was my duty to protect him," he paused, "and to protect you."

"Protect me?" Gwen turned to look up on him.

"Protect you, my betrothed. I'm going to do exactly that," he told her softly. "And before you try and argue with me as well. I know that you're a warrior. That you're trained in combat and weapons and can withstand pretty much everything that has been thrown your way. But all of that doesn't change that I'm going to do something to protect you." He kissed her forehead. "Eventually, Roald told me that you were in the ballroom too and I thought he was telling me you were injured and laying somewhere on another cot. I told him I wanted to see you. I was so relieved when he pointed you out, against the back wall, working and relatively not injured. After he bandaged me up I made myself useful to you, though I'm guessing you didn't notice too much." He stood and offered a hand down to her. "Food. You need to eat."

"Why did you charge off Fal? You could have protected us by staying with us," she asked as she stood. Her legs began to shake under her. She really hadn't eaten enough to last this long in the day. That was the thing about mediation, one didn't realize the need for food until it was almost too late for them to get it for themselves.

"I can't stand hearing you in pain," Faleron told her softly as he steered her back inside. "I saw that little spark of magic when you called the warning and I decided a dead mage can't hurt you anymore." He bent down to nuzzle her temple. "By the time I turned around to see what had happened to the lot of you, you were gone."

"And the mage?" Gwen almost didn't want to ask.

"Long dead," Faleron informed her. "Anyone who uses spells like that should answer for it to the Gods." They wandered back through the mess of cots and lessened moans of pain to the service entrance of the ballroom where servants were now handing out meals to healers and assistants who were able to take breaks. Roald was amongst those eating and he gave both Gwen and Faleron a weary smile as they collected their meals and sat down by him.

"You look pale," Roald told Gwen when she was sitting.

"So do you. Perhaps you need to go rest up." She turned the mothering on him. "You've been awake, what? Since yesterday morning at dawn maybe before. You need sleep, Roald."

"I got a little rest while we were in the safe room," Roald told her calmly. "A little less than you. And don't you go worrying about me. I've done things like this before up on the Scanran border. You on the other hand were touched by a torture spell, healed, and then slept for less than four hours before coming here to work."

"Your Majesty?" Gwen turned to look at the speaker along with Roald and Faleron. It was a courtier still wearing some of his better dress clothes with a bandage around his forehead and over one of his arms.

"What can I do for you?" Roald looked him over.

"This is the lady and the lord that were requesting a blessing on their betrothal last night, yes?" He asked looking between Gwen and Faleron.

"It is," Roald nodded fairly regally despite looking worn down to the point of exhaustion.

"What were you going to say to them? You were explaining that you were breaking from the traditional blessing. I was curious before the young lady was attacked and my curiosity is getting the better of me now that I see them alive and together." He sat down rather than make all three of them crane their necks to look at him from the floor.

"I suppose it wasn't the blessing in itself that was a break from tradition," Roald explained. "It was what I was about to give them." He sighed. "I left it in your rooms, Gwen."

"I didn't see anything when I woke. I looked for a note or something to tell me what was going on." Gwen bit her lip.

"I didn't expect you to notice it unless you had decided to take the time to go put your jewelry back in its proper place. I hope you don't mind that I didn't put your gown or jewelry back in your dressing room. I was trying to be quick." Roald looked down at the ground and she realized it had been Roald that had taken her back to her rooms and Roald that had changed her out of her dress to a nightgown. She blushed a little realizing that he had seen her in just her loincloth then.

"I wasn't thinking about cleaning up when I woke," Gwen tried to smooth it over.

"Well, simply put, you two," Roald nodded to the two of them and seemed to have forgotten the courtier. "You two currently reside in two separate apartments though you mostly share one. Each of those apartments would be suited for a couple easily, but not a family. I'm not saying you two have to move right away but when you are ready, there are a couple keys in your rooms in an envelope for the both of you to move into a larger suite."

"Are you pregnant, my lady?" She heard the courtier ask. "You're expecting a child? Is that why you two are betrothed before her Ordeal?"

"She's not pregnant," Faleron growled. "Don't go starting rumors."

"What I meant," Roald sighed again and rubbed at his temples. "What I meant is that you two will have a family one day, or I hope you will, and I wanted to address that before it became an issue. Gods, I must be tired to be making it sound like you two are that indecent." There was a brief moment of silence before Gwen moved her attention back to the courtier.

"Now, My Lord, I have a question for you," Gwen turned to look at him fully and had noticed the small badge of a blue buck over a green field. "Why did you use my betrothal announcement to stage an attack? Or shall I question further and ask why you're in this room pretending to be one of the loyal courtiers that is actually deserving of medical aid?" Around her she saw confusion on both Roald's and Faleron's faces as well as on those close enough to be listening. The oldest son of Deerwood sat looking a little surprised as well. Rather than answer, he stood and turned to get away but she was just as quick. The contents of her meal fell to the floor as she leapt after him and tackled him to the ground. They rolled and for a brief moment he had her pinned and tried to swing at her. She waited until he was off balance with the punch and twisted to spin them over again. His hand collided with the stone floor.

"Bitch!" He swore. She lifted his heavily muscled shoulders with a bit of strain and threw his head back to the ground three times before he went still, completely dazed but still conscious. She felt someone come up behind her and heard the hiss of a sword being drawn. She felt a shiver go down her spine and felt the point touch the back of her neck. This certainly wasn't help for her and she was now in a very bad place.

"I wouldn't do that if you want to live long enough to beg for the King's Mercy," she heard Faleron's voice shake nearby. "Drop your weapon or I'll cut off your treacherous head," he growled. She felt the sharp point move away from her neck and then heard a sword clatter to the ground. "I take it this is the other son of Deerwood?" Faleron asked her, his eyes snapping with rage when she turned to see him holding his sword in his good arm at the neck of the younger son of Deerwood. Somewhere, distantly, she was worried what he might do to them if she confirmed but it was only distant as they had staged an attack on the palace and one had just tried to kill her. She nodded to confirm the identities.

Guards came forward then and took charge of the two errant Lords of Deerwood to escort them to the dungeons. Before they were too far gone, Faleron had dropped his sword to the floor and had dropped to his knees next to where she still knelt on the ground. His good arm went around her and forced her to turn to look at him. When she looked, his lips pressed against hers with more longing and need than anything else.

"Why must you always endanger yourself?" He asked breaking away to breathe.

"I could ask the same thing of you," she whispered, her body trembling.

"I'd like everyone in this room questioned to see if there are more imposters hiding here and accepting care for the wounds they earned for being traitors," Roald's voice rose above the din. Then he came over and put one hand on Gwen's shoulder and one on Faleron's. "I'm going to be rude for a moment because both of you have long overspent what you should be doing. As your healer, Fal, and as your Knight Master, Gwen, I'm saying it is time for the two of you to get some sleep."

"But the poultice. Neal said they still needed me," Gwen turned to see Neal was no longer at the table but an assistant was working away at filling bowls.

"They have help now," Roald told her kindly. "And here's the part where I'm going to be rude. Say goodnight." She saw a flash of blue light in the air and then she was safely in the dark place where dreams and nightmares could take form.


	44. Chapter 44

"Roald, you really need to get some sleep too," he heard someone say as he stood from bandaging up yet another 'minor' wound. Some of these deep gashes he came across would have been cause for concern at any other time, but if it wasn't over an artery, it just needed to be numbed, stitched, and bandaged. He turned to look at the speaker and cursed out loud.

"How are the two of you so resistant to sleep?" Roald demanded looking to see Faleron standing there behind him looking a little rumbled and with his arm still firmly in its sling.

"Gwen's still sleeping," Faleron offered with a lopsided smile. "Who did you get to move us after you spelled us?"

"Neal came to help," Roald shrugged.

"I appreciate the pallets in the annex rather than out here in the open," Faleron sighed, "for Gwen at least. She doesn't need everyone to hear her nightmares."

"She's not doing well?" Roald looked back towards the royal annex that he had tucked Gwen and Faleron into for some privacy.

"She's whimpering and there are a few tears. I don't think I'm helping anymore." Faleron ran his the hand of his uninjured arm through his hair.

"Or you do when she's able to be conscious of you there," Roald shook his head. "I should have given her the draught but I thought I had a little more control over effectiveness if I used my Gift." He glared at Faleron again.

Roald hadn't been sure he'd find Faleron when he had thrown himself into being a healer. It had been a natural reaction to put himself right into the heart of the work. When he had been on the Scanran border, before he had been called home to marry, he had spent the majority of his time as Watch Captain and in the infirmary after battles. He was used to the quick work of field healing. He had stripped off his tunic, rolled up his sleeves, and had started with the nearest cot. Guards continued to search the palace to fill the rest of the cots with found injured. Two hours after starting, Gwen had been down to find him. After she had been put to work, he had thrown himself back into the task. It wasn't until around dawn that he had even noticed the man whose arm he was stitching up was Faleron. As soon as he realized who he had, he started to berate him for being so foolish. The memory of Gwen clutching his pillow when he had been gone on patrol and at King's Reach was fresh in his mind. Gwen didn't deserve to lose him yet.

"I killed the mage," Faleron had informed him. He had made his argument after that. During the bandaging, Faleron had asked about Gwen and Roald had only said she was in the ballroom too. He hadn't realized the implications of his words until he felt Faleron jerk away from him. "Where?" He had asked, his eyes scanning the growing rows of cots. Roald had pointed Faleron to the back of the room where a pale Gwen was working quietly.

Now Faleron was back in front of him only an hour after he had spelled him trying to take care of him. Guards, Own, Riders, knights, and even a few squires and pages were amongst those on the cots. He had come across a lady who regaled him with a tale of how she had taken out one of the dirty traitors with a candle stand and had earned a few cuts of her own for the trouble. He hadn't come across any other courtiers that were involved himself but Baird had mentioned a few more ladies and lords without warrior titles that had fought for him. There were servants in droves that had rose up and fought to protect the palace from invasion and those were the majority of the people filling the cots.

He knew there must have been something similar but larger that had happened right after his father's coronation with the earthquake his second cousin Duke Roger had created. Not only had there been attackers but the earthquake causing damage. Because his father had vowed never to look backwards on that day and the events that had followed, Roald had never heard about the cleanup. How had Deerwood done so much damage? At least they had cleared out any traitors from the room. Gwen's identification of the two sons of Deerwood had been a blessing. Myles had stopped in to tell him that the Lord of Deerwood had been identified amongst the dead. The only blessing with the dead was that the vast majority wore the colors of Deerwood. Very few of his loyal subjects had died. The names of those loyal to him that had died were being written down and he would write their families personally and give rewards for them.

"Roald," Faleron has cut through his thoughts again. "You need to rest too. I can get Baird to tell you the same thing if you want."

"There's still so much more to be done," Roald looked around.

"You won't do your best work if you're this tired," Faleron reminded him. "Come on. Take a dose of your own healer's concoctions." Without realizing it he had started to follow Faleron as he walked back to the annex. He didn't realize until he had stepped inside of the room what Faleron was intending. To one side of the room were the two pallets he had ordered to be set together for Gwen and Faleron. Gwen was still on the pallets, tucked up against the wall, and indeed she was whimpering and he could hear the odd sniffle here and there as well. On the other side of the room was a new addition: another pallet complete with a pillow and a comforter. "I know you won't leave but you should get an hour or two of rest."

"Will you at least lie back down?" Roald asked turning to see Faleron was already crawling carefully back onto the pallets that Gwen occupied. He continued to watch as Faleron very carefully turned Gwen over to face him and then shifted her against him for her to sleep against his good shoulder. She was quiet for a moment and then he saw the tears start to leak from her eyes again.

"I'm going to wake her up," Roald sighed, not wanting to be responsible for Gwen's pain. "It's your responsibility to make sure she sleeps." He touched Gwen's forehead with a spark of his Gift to wake her. She shifted for a moment and then her eyes started to open. Roald didn't stick by the side of their bed for her to see him. Instead he went to his pallet, took the comforter that Faleron had left for him and brought it over to them to toss it over the two of them.

"Roald," Faleron's voice held a bit of a warning.

"I don't need a blanket," he informed his friend. He knew Faleron was right, he couldn't stitch wounds and be a competent healer if he was too tired. But he didn't need a comforter and he didn't quite want to see Faleron and Gwen entwined together. He might be happy they were both happy, but he didn't need to see all of their happiness. He could at least give them the comforter and cover them from his view at the same time. "See I'm lying down." He settled onto the pallet.

"Fal?" He heard Gwen's voice croak out a few seconds later.

"Sleep." Faleron told her. "I'm here now. Let's get a few hours and then we'll go find some way to help."

Roald slept dreamlessly and when he woke Faleron was alone on his pallet sleeping soundly with the comforter tucked carefully around him. There was a fresh set of clothes for Roald sitting on the edge of his pallet and the door to the annex was closed. When he was dressed he left to find Gwen and found her almost immediately holding a tray and walking back towards the annex. When she saw him she smiled and continued forward until she reached the wall next to him and sat down against the wall and set the tray down. She waved him over to join her and lifted the lid of the tray to reveal two bowls of steaming stew and some soft rolls.

"His Grace said if we didn't eat we couldn't join the fun again," she nodded to the slightly quieter room. There were still people in need of care but they were the most minor injuries and mostly it was monitoring and rechecking bandages for the others. Assistants were helping some to eat, others to drink, and doling out sleeping drops where needed.

"Any idea where you're going to go?" Roald asked knowing he could join the 'fun' as a healer again.

"I figured His Grace would find a place for me. If not, there's cleanup happening elsewhere. I'll find something." Gwen sighed.

"Any chance I can get you to go back to your room and stay there until this is all over?" Roald asked. The way her body had contorted on the floor and the screams that had erupted from her in the suddenly silent throne room had stuck in his head. Yes, the spell had been stopped before it really damaged her. And yes, Baird had reversed the little damage it had done in her body. But she still looked abnormally pale and he could see the tear tracks still on her face from his attempt to make her sleep. When she lifted the bowl to hand to him, he could see the contents trembling a little. Perhaps it was a loss of strength or her nerves had been affected. He was worried about her but he knew he couldn't royally order her to go away. She wouldn't listen and she'd resent him for it.

"Any chance I could tell you to get your royal behind up to your room to deal with the administrative side of this mess rather than being in the thick of all of it?" She retorted. "That's not the kind of people that we are, Roald. You want to help, I want to help. Neither of us is going to do what the other one wishes here."

"When did you get so wise, oh dear Squire of mine?" Roald asked and turned to really look at her. Suddenly he became aware that she wasn't the sixteen year old quiet but determined girl he had taken on but a twenty year old jaded warrior who had faced far more than any other squire before their Ordeal. The scariest thing any squire should have to look forward to was their Ordeal. He wasn't even sure she was worried about the Chamber or not anymore.

"I suppose somewhere between arrows and torture spells you pick it up," she stared down at her stew. "Tell me honestly, as my knight master and nothing more, would you still encourage me to continue towards my Ordeal? I've heard whispers from other knights saying they would have stopped me after I came back from Tusaine."

He knew exactly what the Chamber of Ordeal did to someone. He'd been in it twice, undergone two separate Ordeals. It took what one had to face and made them face it. Some called it a nightmare device. One text Roald had read a long time before had said it was intended to make young warriors face their biggest challenges, their fears, their inadequacies, the things they understood the least and see how they stood up. Should they face everything and learn how to bend, let go, or hold on, they could become knights. In rare cases, the Chamber exposed crimes that would exclude a squire from being a knight and forced them to confess.

Did he think that Gwen needed to face the things that found their way into her nightmares? As a friend he didn't want her to face anything more. She'd done enough. If he thought she'd take it, he'd give her a woodland fief and let her be for the rest of time. As her King, he knew they needed her as a knight. As a healer, he thought there was a chance that the Chamber of Ordeal could help her face her nightmares and let her conquer them. But as her knight master and nothing else, he thought about the likelihood of her survival. She was mentally and physically strong. She would probably be able to figure out the puzzle that was the Ordeal and figure out what she needed to do. But she had faced so many nightmarish things, there was a chance it could overwhelm her.

"Gwen, I want to ask you a question," he sighed. "Close your eyes and tell me what you want in life. I mean really tell me what you envision your future as." He looked at her to see her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly.

"I don't know honestly. I've been figuring it all out as I go," she bit her lip. Roald frowned at her. Then he realized the door to the annex was open on Gwen's other side and he could see Faleron standing quietly, listening, at the doorframe.

"What do you want it to be then?" Roald asked. She still had her eyes closed and he could see her frowning.

"I want…" she drew out the words. "I want this realm safe. I want these threats to your life to stop," she whispered and he could see her face was pained.

"What do you want for you? Those were for the realm and me." Roald glanced up to see Faleron was still listening but wasn't about to make himself known. Gwen's eyes opened and he could see her looking at the ring still on her finger. She twisted it one way and then the other until it was completely centered on her left ring finger.

"I want to marry Faleron," she smiled. "Have a family one day." He saw her smile. "But I just don't know how to get there from here until those other wants are taken care of." She waved a hand at the rows of cots in front of them and he realized this was the 'here' she saw.

"We start by planning a wedding," Faleron sat down next to her. "A big one because I'm going to show you off. Then we lose that pregnancy charm in your jewelry drawers after the wedding and we work on that family thing. That's how we'll get from here to what you want." He teased and then he sobered a little. "The only question I want you to answer right now, without overthinking it like you're prone to, would you be unhappy if you didn't have your shield?"

"I can't say that I feel like I've wasted my time," she sighed. "But I feel like I'd regret not finishing this out."

"So let's get through today. Through this mess, and then we'll focus on getting you to your Ordeal as best prepared as possible." Roald told her.

"So what are we doing when we are done eating?" Faleron asked with a grin when Gwen and Roald were getting close to finishing their stew. Roald watched Gwen twist the ring on her finger for a moment before she turned to look directly up at Faleron.

"_We_ are not doing anything. _I_ am going to help and _you_ are going to get your injured behind up to our rooms and _you_ are going to clean up as best as possible and rest." Roald looked over the top of Gwen's head to see Faleron was clearly as stunned by her order as Roald had been. She had said not too longer before that there was no way that neither she nor Roald would be able to avoid pushing themselves through helping and he knew that she knew Faleron was exactly the same. But he also knew how much damage had been done to Faleron's arm and while it was stitched, it needed time to heal without being pulled. There was no guarantee it would be safe from being pulled during any sort of work even if his arm did remain in the sling.

"And by what authority are you ordering me?" Faleron managed to find his voice looking a bit taken aback.

"As your wife," came the answer. "Or rather, your future wife." Roald saw Faleron's eyes light up for a moment when she said the word 'wife' and then he saw the resolve to argue about staying leave Faleron completely.

"Alright, but I want you to promise, and I mean absolutely promise me, that you'll come and join me when you need a break or when you're starting to not feel well. I can tell you're not doing the greatest. You're trembling." He leaned over and kissed Gwen's forehead. "And you feel awfully warm." He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.

"Just a bit worn," she assured Roald and then Faleron. "If you really want something to do to keep you occupied," she looked to Faleron. "I'd appreciate if you could start packing up my things."

"What? Why?" Roald demanded. He expected Faleron to at least look concerned but he was smiling.

"I believe you gave my beautiful betrothed and myself a nice new suite to share," Faleron teased Roald. "I believe my lady is telling me she'd like to get our lives moving forward again."


	45. Chapter 45

Gwen woke in her bed in the middle of the night and sat up quickly. She heard a grunt of pain and cringed. She must have bumped Faleron's arm as she had sat up. Enlightenment had struck in her dreams and now her mind was racing and she hadn't even thought about being careful.

"Sorry," she muttered as she scooted out from under the covers and dodged into the closet.

"Gwen, what it is?" Faleron was sitting up in bed when she stepped out of the closet with a fresh shirt and breeches. She ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back.

"I thought of something, I need to...," but her mind was back racing again. She didn't have time to explain. She needed to pursue the information she had dreamed up in case there was even an ounce of truth to it. Where would she find the information she needed? She needed a map. An old map. Roald had an old map of Tortall in his study on the wall. She made her way to the door and left her and Faleron's new suite. It was even closer to Roald's study and she had the key to let herself in to her destination. Roald had given her the key himself when he had taken her on. She started to light the branches of candles and then went to the wall to find the correct map.

"Gwen? What in Mithros name are you doing? It's the middle of the night," Faleron was in the doorway with his shirt half on. The sleeve he usually had to coax his injured arm through was left hanging and the mentioned limb was tucked against his chest inside of his shirt.

"This map, how old is it? What's the date on it?" She asked. "I can't find a date marked on it."

"You wouldn't," Gwen heard a new voice. It belonged to Roald, wearing a dressing robe over a nightshirt. Perfect, Roald would help her.

"I need a map before your great-grandfather's wars. One with the fiefs marked out. I've seen one before. I thought it was this one," she looked around to the other maps. "And a current map, with the fiefs too."

"Why?" She heard Roald ask but he was already at the bookshelf pulling out long scrolls and checking the markings for her without an answer.

"There's something…" she was looking at the map on the wall again. Her dream had shown her overlapping maps and something had clicked into place about Deerwood.

"Don't bother asking. She hasn't finished an answer since she flew out of bed like she was being chased by a tauros," Faleron's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Gwen, I don't have a map with the fiefs from before King Jasson's wars," Roald showed her the markings on the maps. "Tell me why you need the maps."

She had seen a map like that in real life. Her mind flashed back to the dream. She had been talking to someone, looking over maps and she had seen something she had commented on, about the positioning of Deerwood and how it seemed to be oddly shaped as their neighbor to the east. No, wait, she knew that map now. It was a local map that hung in her father's study. She had commented on that to him when she was thirteen on summer break from page training. She had commented on how odd it looked and he had shown her a local map from several generations back to explain it.

"Merrywood," she announced out loud. "The map is at Merrywood. I need to see it."

"There's a map at Merrywood you need to see, right now…" Roald drew out the words for her to hear. Yes, she had meant exactly that. Yes, it sounded absolutely absurd.

"It's important. I know it is," she took the other maps from Roald and started to flip through them. Perhaps there was one that she could point out the differences on. She wanted a visual aid. It was important to get this out now while it was fresh and a trip to Merrywood would be too long and impractical to look at a map. "The border changes here, on this one," she pulled it out. There were no fiefs marked on it but she at least knew the position of her fief. Most nobles could point out the boundaries of their fiefs on a general unmarked map of Tortall or whatever country they belonged to. "Deerwood isn't—wasn't a Tortallan fief. Papa told me they were added in King Jasson's wars but their fief border was cut off and over more than half of their fief is in Tusaine still, considered Tusaine property. They were a large fief in Tusaine," the information was coming back to her now, faster and not just from her dream but from her conversation she had had with her father seven years back.

"What are you saying?" Roald asked her gently. "Deerwood would have been a very rich fief. The only large fiefs in Tusaine are rich ones with high ranking titles. They were won in the war and then Jasson held a grand progress and made them pay for everything on top of losing the majority of their lands. That was the common practice. Loyalty through poverty. And they were kept a small fief with little to gain here in Tortall by way of wealth. They resent Tortall and the Conte line." She had sat down at the desk, staring at the map. She was speculating now but it seemed to make sense in her mind. "I wonder if their land is still unclaimed. They would petition for it if they returned to Tusaine." She looked up and her eyes landed on the spelled mirror that Roald contacted Edric through. "Edric. Bring it up," she looked to Roald.

"Gwen the odds of him being awake or even near it at this hour…" Roald sighed and his fingers sparked blue and he muttered the spell standing in front of the mirror. She knew at some point she'd have to thank Roald for just working without her without tell her to go back to bed. Even if she did sound like a lunatic raving at the moon right about now.

"Cousin? It's late," Edric's voice came through.

"Then what are you doing awake?" Roald rolled his eyes. "I'm going to make this quick, Gwen demanded I bring it up." He stepped to the side for Edric to be able to see Gwen. Gwen could see he wasn't alone either. Nik and Aloys sat with him.

"I told you it was late, the Tortallan King is in his robes," Aloys complained to his companions.

"And yet he, Sir Faleron, and Lady Gwendolyn are all still awake too. What's this about Lady Gwen?" Edric asked.

"There's a piece of land that belonged to a fief that's now Tortallan from King Jasson of Conte's expansion of Tortall. It would be large in the north of Tusaine now along the border." She bit her lip. "Does it remain unclaimed?"

"That land was redistributed to a new fief after the loss of the old fief," Aloys stood and met Gwen's eyes. "That's Fief Breighley."

"Your fief," Faleron announced suddenly.

"Yes, that's home to Aloys and me," Nik frowned. "What's this about?" Things started to click together in Gwen's mind that she hadn't even meant to come together. It was like she had finally been given all of the pieces to a puzzle and was seeing the whole picture for the first time.

"I know why they took Aloys, or I think I do," she turned Roald. "If Deerwood was working with the Tusaine rebellion, who wanted to get that land back, they would have petitioned for their old land and titles. They would have needed the cooperation of the current owners." She looked around and saw Roald, Edric, Nik, Aloys, and Faleron all staring at her blankly or through narrowed eyes.

"Let us into your brain Gwen, tell us how it all connects for you," Faleron nudged her. "We're men, we don't read minds easily," he teased.

"The goal of Tusaine's rebellion, from what I understand, was to get a change in the monarchy to get a monarchy willing to reclaim the land they viewed as theirs. That would have expanded the border, making Tusaine larger and back to its former glory, as they saw it, and give them access to the River Drell for transportation of goods without having to rely on another country like Tortall. I'm willing to bet most of the rebellion was caused by border fiefs that had more land on our side of the 'new' border. We know the lines weren't drawn at the fief boundaries. They were drawn at the edges of combat zones. It would have caused multiple fiefs to be cut into pieces. Deerwood stayed on the Tortall side of the border because their castle and village were on this side of the border while their wealth producing lands were on the other side. I bet those with lands on Tortall's side had their villages and fief houses on the Tusaine side.

"There was probably talk of the rebellion getting cooperation from some of the Tortallan border fiefs. Ones that already were malcontent with the Crown and willing to assist once the war started. They were probably told they would be paid handsomely once the war was over. It was likely a lie but one that could tempt the smaller border fiefs into allowing armies to cross into their lands or offering sanctuary to them as they prepared for invasion. Deerwood hates the Conte line. They held the land that Breighley has now. I bet they agreed to help if they could have their land back. In order to get that land back they would need to get Breighley to hand it over. Having a child of the lord usually is a fairly good bargaining chip."

"They don't know our father," Aloys mumbled and was instantly elbowed by Nik. Gwen couldn't tell if it was for interrupting her or for revealing their father likely wouldn't have given up the fief for a child. Not that she condoned that thought of sacrificing a child for lands but she understood it. One child verses the family history, heritage, future of the family… she could see the thought process.

"Alright, that's a good idea for why Aloys was taken by the Tusaine rebellion. What about you? Why were you taken?" Edric asked when she paused.

"The Lord of Deerwood and his sons, they wanted to eliminate the Conte line. Several generations of being in an impoverished fief when they had once been a big wealthy one… I bet they had nothing holding them back anymore or had finally built up enough resentment and wealth to do it. They hired mercenaries to attempt to assassinate the heir. But I got in the way. Someone from Tusaine tried to assassinate the heir, but I got in the way. I got in the way multiple times."

"Every time," Roald groaned. "You got in the way every time. So they turned to trying to get rid of you first."

"So they already had a connection in Tusaine that was holding a noble for them, what's holding another noble?" Gwen offered. "And they could try and get information from me to increase their luck in getting rid of Roald before he was Crowned, before he was bound to the land's magic, and before he held the Dominion Jewel. There's a common fear that if the King falls while bound to the land and bound with the Dominion Jewel that the land will fall too. I doubt Tusaine would want to claim back land that was dead and barren. That's likely why the attempts seemed to stop after the coronation. And perhaps that's why they didn't try so hard with me after Twitch left to return to Tortall. Tusaine didn't really want information from me but they would take it if I gave it up."

"So they paid for Gwen to be tortured and held," Edric looked to Roald.

"I bet you haven't found Lord Bariden either," Gwen announced, thinking out loud. "His mage was here in Tortall with Deerwood's man, Twitch. I bet he was hiding at Deerwood and maybe he added men to Deerwood's recent attack. It would explain why there were so many."

"Gwen, did you go down and look at the dead?" Roald asked suddenly. "From the attack?"

"What attack is this?" Edric asked. Gwen was surprised he hadn't heard but then again they had only just finished clean up and the attack was only four days before. It could have been that news didn't travel as fast as she thought it did. She was far too used to how fast the gossip about her and Faleron seemed to get around.

"No, I didn't. I was busy helping Baird." She hadn't gone down to look over the dead because she hadn't had a free moment. When she was taking breaks, she was up in her rooms with Faleron and when she was working, she was creating poultices and draughts under Baird's orders either in the ballroom or in the infirmary.

"Damn, I had hoped you had in case you recognized Bariden or Twitch. We know the mage is dead," Roald looked to Faleron as he said it.

"What attack is this?" Edric demanded.

Roald launched into the story for Edric, Nik, and Aloys while Gwen turned her attention to helping Faleron get his shirt on properly now that she had run her thoughts out.

"You were tortured again?" Nik asked after Roald finished the story.

"Not for long," Gwen smiled at Faleron.

"Gods, I remember that day still," Aloys cringed. "I don't want to imagine the look that went with those screams."

"So, Deerwood," Gwen yawned, her sudden burst of energy used up.

"We'll have to look into it. It's a good theory right now," Roald sighed. "I'll relay it to the correct people on our side."

"We appreciate you sharing your theory with us, Gwen," Edric announced. "We'll keep you updated." The mirror went dark.

"So, explain to me why the attack on the palace after I was Crowned and held the Dominion Jewel if you have the rest of this figured out," Roald poked her.

"I think Deerwood just didn't care about that anymore and if Bariden helped, he knew he had nothing to lose. His lands are gone from him. If he returns to Tusaine under the current monarchy, he'll be labeled a traitor and likely be executed. All of the men that came with him if they did would be in the same boat. Did we notice an influx of people at any point while spying on Deerwood? I mean, Bariden was gone before I was even found and there was a chance he had fled to Deerwood before we even considered looking. Perhaps the spies didn't know he wasn't part of the family…" she chewed on her lip as she thought.

"That would make sense, Roald," Faleron offered.

"I'll ask Myles in the morning when we are all better rested. I think that it's bedtime again," Roald shooed them towards the door.

"Goodnight, Roald," Faleron slung his good arm around Gwen's shoulders and steered her back down the hall to their new suite.

Gwen liked their new suite. Everything was larger. Faleron had explained that these were royal apartments that weren't handed out to just anyone. They usually went to royalty in residence like Roald's brothers when they married and had children, if they weren't marrying daughters from other countries and taking up leadership roles in those countries. In their suites there were three bedrooms in addition to a master bedroom, two privies, a dining room, a library, a large sitting room, and two servants' quarters. The master bedroom was even larger than the one she had left behind and accommodated Gwen and Faleron's armor racks and weapon racks with plenty of room to spare.

"I really am sorry I bumped your arm," Gwen sighed when she entered the bedroom and remembered that she had hurt Faleron in her efforts to get up. His arm probably needed a better healing than a stitching and bandages. It was fairly torn up. She guessed the blade he had been cut with wasn't a sharp one. Dull blades always did more painful damage and hacked up the muscle without removing the limb.

"I'm alright, Love," Faleron sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes. "I'm not even going to bother trying to take the shirt off again right now," he sighed. It took too long for him to put on and take off his clothes on his own though he could manage on his own.

"It's terrible to need help all of the time with simple things you could blink away before, isn't it," Gwen asked coming over to undo the ties on his shirt. She knew he wouldn't sleep well if he was wearing it. Even in the dead of winter he didn't wear a shirt most nights. His body ran hot, which was lucky because hers usually ran cold.

"It was worth it," Faleron stopped her and kissed her thoroughly. "Can we sleep in tomorrow?"

"How about I'll let you sleep in tomorrow and I'll be careful and quiet when I have to explain myself to Myles in the morning," Gwen shifted Faleron's shirt off and then tugged at his breeches. When he was down to his loincloth she turned her attention to her own clothes.

"Tell him to wait until the afternoon. I'm tired of you slipping out on me," he pulled her down on the bed. They had only seen each other in passing and took short naps together when she had been involved in cleanup. He had spent that time coordinating the moving of their rooms into one suite. She had been waking before he did and left the bed quietly to return to work without disturbing him. "We can work on that family thing," he nuzzled her when she settled in next to him.

"Not until after we are married," Gwen informed him knowing he was teasing a little. She knew that he didn't want to endanger her or a child by her training or the Ordeal.

"Let's get married tomorrow," came the whisper in her ear.

"You're silly. I think you need more sleep," Gwen turned to kiss his lips and let him pull her against him.

"I wasn't kidding too much," Faleron kissed her hair and then sighed. "I can't wait until after Midwinter. You'll be all mine and I won't have to share you with Roald."

"I have to start my trial run as Kai's tutor," she reminded him.

"I'm going to talk Roald into waiting with that until after our wedding and a nice month or two without duties for you or for me," Faleron nuzzled her again and she felt his injured arm moving down across her body.

"And what would we do with ourselves in all of that time without duties to attend to?" Gwen asked knowing exactly what Faleron intended to do with her. Only a week or two of that would be spent at King's Reach introducing her to the people and to his mother.

"Let me show you how we'll spend it," he growled in her ear and his hand hook into her loincloth.

"Fal… you're injured," she tried to remind him as he began to touch her.

"Only my arm. The rest of me is fine," he reminded her. "Please, Gwen," he begged. They had not been intimate since the attack due to lack of energy and his injury. But clearly he wanted it, perhaps needed it now.

"If you hurt yourself, I'm telling Roald you insisted," she announced, moving to get rid of his loincloth and then hers.

"I'd expect nothing less."


	46. Chapter 46

Roald's Gift was mainly trained in healing and little things like shields, lighting fires and candles, and truth spells. He rarely did more than light candles with his Gift. He almost never worked healings in his own palace because there were healers dedicated and hired for that sort of thing and a King did not have time for such things. But he knew his subjects appreciated him down with them, working as a healer during the cleanup, stitching their wounds and just as dirty, covered in blood, tired, and worn as the other healers. He heard passing comments about how much of a change it was to have a king that wasn't hiding in his study. Roald knew his father didn't exactly hide in his study during danger but he also was usually in the thick of the planning rather than in the thick of the work. Shinko had taken over the planning side of things while he had worked. But Roald had stepped back after the initial healings had been done while trained healers like Baird and Neal did the majority of the follow up healing. That was, he had given them up with the exception of one patient that Roald refused to leave to anyone else.

Faleron sat before him with his shirt off on Gwen's vanity stool in the middle of the sitting room of their suite. Roald was working on unwrapping the arm and frowned at the fresh blood that was visible on the inner layers of the bandages along with a little discoloration that meant something else was likely mixed with the blood. Faleron didn't seem to notice the look on Roald's face or the color change to the fresh bandages that should have been white as they had been changed the night before.

"You sent Gwen to speak to Myles alone?" Faleron asked finally, tearing his eyes away from the door that ultimately led to the bedroom he and Gwen shared. Roald didn't need to ask what was occupying his mind. Gwen had left not too long before but Faleron had still been asleep when Roald had gone to get him. He clearly had not gotten enough sleep with Gwen's sudden epiphany the night before.

"I figured that she was the one with the ideas, she should go report them. If it's wild theories that she dreams up in the middle of the night, then I'll let her go and talk through them to the Spymasters," Roald unwrapped the final layer of bandages. "You haven't been taking it easy on this arm, have you?" He sighed seeing that the thread he had so carefully stitched and tied into place was strained and the cut that had been neatly lined up was now stretching apart, revealing where the blood had come from and a bit of discolored fluid leaking from the edges.

"I have been. I keep it in the sling and the only time it's not, is when I'm in bed," he argued. "Gwen even helps me with my clothes so I don't have to stretch it too much to get them on." Faleron reasoned.

"Your stitches have pulled apart and the skin has split. You've been bleeding," Roald sighed. "Infection is starting to set in too. You have to have felt that. Something like that would hurt."

"It's hurt since I got it at the beginning of the week," Faleron shrugged. "One big constant hurt until it's bumped, and then it finds new ways to throb. You know how wounds are." Roald didn't exactly know how those types of wounds were. He'd never had one like that. He hadn't been allowed to endanger his royal behind the way that Faleron had. But he did know that infection and the skin being stretched by ripping stitches would hurt considerably more than the normal pain he would have felt with it. But how was Faleron supposed to know the difference between that pain and the normal pain. Roald hadn't exactly given him much instruction about the care of his arm when he had been berating him for being a brave idiot while stitching him up. It was his fault that Faleron didn't know. He was the healer, he was supposed to have instructed him.

"I should have checked in on you sooner," Roald admitted. "Hold still." He heard Faleron mutter something in response but he was concentrating on threading his Gift from inside of himself into Faleron's arm. Most of healing was will power and learning what order things had to go in to properly mend the body back to its original state. Roald turned his Gift into a hot thread that burned out infection where it touched. He wove the muscle, the veins, and the skin together while searching for additional shadows of infection to burn out. When he withdrew from his concentration and pulled his Gift with him, the thread that had been stitched through Faleron's arm was sitting on the floor in a pile and there was a line of pink raised skin on Faleron's arm that ran from his bicep down to the middle of his forearm. "Sorry, if I would have done this sooner, there wouldn't be so much of a scar."

"Scars are fine. I expected I'd have more than this by now," Faleron shook out his arm and then started to flex his wrist and elbow.

"I'd still take it easy for a few days," Roald sighed and went to retrieve Faleron's shirt.

"Do me a favor, Roald," Faleron pulled his shirt on started on the ties. "Don't tell Gwen about my arm."

"That I healed it?"

"No, she'll see it's healed. Don't tell her that it needed a healing. She bumped it last night and felt bad," Faleron told him. "And she's been worried that I'm going to hurt myself."

Roald looked up and narrowed his eyes on his friend. There was something not being said that likely was responsible for at least the stitches getting pulled and the fresh blood on the bandages but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Perhaps there were other reasons he was looking to the door so longingly. "And what do you plan on telling her when your arm isn't bandaged and is all healed up?"

"That you decided to speed things along," Faleron stood and moved the stood to the side of the room.

"Am I going to need to tell her you should continue to take it easy for a few days?" Roald had a guess at what activity Faleron was protecting that had caused damage and that Faleron didn't want to deter Gwen from.

"I'll be good," Faleron raised his hands in defeat. Roald doubted it. He knew what it was like to enjoy some romance in the bedroom. They had just been betrothed, they had just been through a terrible attack, they had just started to enjoy each other. All of those reasons meant it was unlikely that Faleron would be good any time in the near future. He meant to say something about finding ways to enjoy each other without pulling his arm too much, as in different positions but he hesitated a moment too long.

"Fal?" The door opened and Gwen backed in pulling a cart. When she turned and saw both of them she smiled. "Your Majesty." She showed the contents of the cart to them. "I have midday. For all three of us."

"Myles let you go awfully quick," Roald prodded. "And how did you know I was here too?"

"He didn't need me to explain much. Once I connected some of the dots he reached the same conclusions I did. He's going to do some looking." Gwen shrugged. "As for you, I took a guess and figured if I was wrong, there was more food for me." She grinned at the two of them and then her face became serious again. "What happens to Deerwood now? The Lord is dead. The two sons are both being held for treason. There are no other children. The Lady of Deerwood died years ago…"

"The Crown has some ideas," Roald took the cart from Gwen's hands and pushed it towards the door that led to the dining room.

"You're the Crown," Faleron reminded him. He smiled knowing that both Gwen and Faleron would catch the humor in his statement. But he wasn't about to tell them what he was doing until he had it set.

"And I have ideas. I have to get some other things taken care of first." He started to take the trays from the cart and put them on the table. Neither Gwen nor Faleron even offered to help him though Gwen had applied herself to pouring drinks for the three of them. Faleron simply sat himself down and hooked his hands behind his neck. Roald noticed Gwen's gaze on the arm that should have been bandaged and still in a sling but she said nothing. "Have you two picked a date for your wedding yet?"

"I tried to pick a date last night," Faleron teased Gwen when she set a cup in front of him.

"We are not getting married today," Gwen threw herself down in her seat. "We don't have time left today for starters. If you really wanted to throw a big wedding and show me off like you said, we need time. If you were lying and want something small that no one knows happened, I suppose we can go down to the temples tomorrow and find a priest or priestess willing to marry us. There's always the odd worshipper or two that can act as witnesses." She kept her eyes on her plate rather than look up at Faleron. Roald watched knowing exactly what Gwen was checking. She wanted to know if Faleron had told the truth about wanting to show her off but she also wanted to know how badly he wanted to be married. Faleron had walked himself right into this trap and Roald wasn't sure there was an easy way out.

"Honestly, if I could marry you tomorrow, today, right now, I would," Faleron sighed. "But I do want to show you off and I suppose people will want to be there to support us. We just don't have luck at large events together."

"Even our betrothal announcement," Gwen admitted. "Aurelia did say I wasn't allowed to do a small quick wedding."

"I suppose we had better start by picking a date then," Faleron started to dig into his food. For a few moments there was nothing but the scrapping of silverware against plates as they started to eat.

"I thought we weren't going to do much planning until after the Ordeal, in case…" Gwen's voice was soft. Roald stared at Gwen as he realized she thought there was a possibility she wouldn't need to plan a wedding because she would be dead. Faleron seemed to notice too because he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open as he seemed to be working out what to say.

"Let's plan for the beginning of January. Then we can do what we said last night and request a couple of months of down time during the lull that follows Midwinter to go to King's Reach," Faleron regained himself, took Gwen's hand and kissed it.

"That seems awfully quick. You two will be planning a full wedding when she needs to be focusing on her Ordeal. Less than a week ago we were talking about helping her be prepared for it. It's September. We don't have all of that much time." Roald spoke over the top of Gwen's head looking directly at Faleron.

"Your family will already be here for the Ordeal," Faleron continued as if he hadn't heard Roald. "I can convince my mother to bring her girls to experience Court so I can get her here for Midwinter as well. I know a gown takes time but we could go down to see Lalasa this afternoon. The rest is details, Love. Who do you want to stand with you as your witness? What sort of flowers do you want for your bouquet…"

"It will be January, we don't have flowers in January," Gwen reminded him. Roald stared at her. She didn't seem to be contradicting the timeline, only pointing out one flaw.

"Not outdoor ones," Faleron took her hand and kissed it. "Shall we visit Lalasa later today?"

"It's bad luck for the bridegroom to see the gown before the wedding. You won't be coming with me," Gwen informed him.

"January… you two really just settled on January," Roald looked between them not quite sure what to think.

"I believe we just did," Faleron grinned up at him. "Gwen, how would you feel about the second Saturday in January. That gives you a little time to recuperate from your Ordeal."

"Fal… don't look at me like I'm pessimistic and in need of reassurance but, there's a chance I won't live or that I'll be at least injured. Very few men and women walk out of that Chamber unscathed." Gwen pushed the last of her food around her plate.

"I have enough faith in you to know you will live, and injuries we'll deal with them immediately." Faleron told her softly. "Finish eating, go to Lalasa's, get your gown ordered. I'll be right back with some coin for it." Faleron stood and disappeared.

"But I don't need coin," she told the empty doorframe. "When did he get this… confident?"

"Oh, he's always been confident. Except with math. Math was hard for him," Roald grinned at her. "But I'd say it was the moment you turned on him and ordered his behind back up to your rooms so he wouldn't help and could rest his injured arm. You unlocked a door that day, darling squire."

"Perhaps I did. I'll just have to keep my wits about me and pick my battles." She sighed and then looked to him. "I know you think January is too early but I think he needs this."

"Don't forget that you can ask Shinko for advice. She planned our wedding just fine. Get Aurelia down here too. Didn't you say she wanted a hand in your wedding?" Roald scrapped the last of the food from his plate onto his fork. "If you get her going, I doubt you'll have to worry about much of the details. All you have to do is reign her into the direction you want."

"Here," Faleron came back with Gwen's belt purse jingling full of coins. He set it down in front of her. "There should be enough there that even if it's the most expensive dress in the world, you can afford it."

"I can pay for my gown, Fal," Gwen turned to face him.

"But you aren't going to," he crossed his arms. "One of the things I settled when I went home was that I needed a proper fund for my wedding. My mother was overjoyed."

"What happens to what's left over from that fund?" Gwen asked as she started to collect plates.

"I'll find good use for it in the fief," Faleron grinned at her and then at Roald.

"I had better change if I'm going down to the city. Roald, thank you for joining us for lunch," she took the coin purse and left. Faleron smiled a bit smugly at the door.

"I know you think January is too early, Roald," Faleron started after they had been sitting quietly for a while. "But I think she needs something like this to focus on for after the Ordeal. She said she's been figuring things out as she goes. Perhaps something just beyond the Ordeal will give her a goal." He turned to look to Roald and leaned back in his chair. "You'll stand up with me as my witness, won't you?"

"You couldn't stop me." Roald grinned. He heard the footsteps out in the sitting area that meant Gwen was leaving. He tilted his head slightly and realized the jingling of coins was not part of that sound. Gwen had likely emptied the belt purse. Faleron's mistake had been telling her where the funds would go after. Gwen wouldn't pass up a chance to help the people of her new fief if she could. He thought about mentioning it to Faleron but he also figured there was a chance Faleron would track her down and force her to take the coin. It was best something he was told later. Or when he went back to his rooms to find the coin likely dumped out on the bed. He might be standing up for Faleron, but he'd assist Gwen in her endeavors. "How about I use your good arm and you can help me write up letters of apology to the families who lost loved ones in this attack." He stood and nodded to the door. "Gwen's going to be a long time. Gowns take a lot of planning."

"I suppose I can do something to help." Faleron stood and followed Roald out the door and out of the suite. Roald knew the letters were practically almost done and just needed to be signed, but it would buy Gwen enough time to get down to Lalasa's without Faleron chasing after her.


	47. Chapter 47

At the beginning of October Gwen sat at her desk in the library working through her personal accounts when she heard a knock on the door. Faleron was off with Roald and there were few other visitors for her. She left the papers where they were and prayed it wasn't an assassin or a trap before she opened the door. After opening the door, she wished it was an assassin instead. There in the hall in front of her was a formidable lady in a spotless, crisp silk, simple gown. Her once dark hair was now steel gray, braided, and pinned back into a tidy, strict bun. Her dark eyes were accented only by the barest of face paint. Gwen knew Lady Elmina, Countess of King's Reach on sight and wasn't all that scared of her anymore, but it was her company that made her cringe. There in the hall, also, were four young ladies between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. All of them were dressed in brought colors with matching jewels, face paint, and their hair done up in elaborate styles.

"Ah yes, my Daughter-in-law-to-be," Countess Elmina swept Gwen into a hug without a second thought. Gwen hesitated and then closed her arms around the woman that she had distantly respected and feared for most of her life despite what she taught. "And where is my charming son? Shouldn't he be coming out to meet his dear Mother?" She let Gwen go and looked behind her expectantly.

"I'm sorry Countess, but he left with his Majesty roughly three hours ago. I do not know when they will return," she heard a slight murmur go through the ladies in the hall but she gave them no mind.

"Well that is no matter, I've come to discuss the school with you and your wedding. He doesn't need to be present for that. I've brought some of my girls with me to help you understand what I teach and of course, to assist you with your wedding." Elmina took her hand and patted it. "I'm so happy you chose to continue towards your shield though no one would have faulted you, Dear, for bowing out after that terrible abduction." Gwen found herself moving aside and admitted Lady Elmina and all four of her ladies without realizing that she was doing it.

"Did your servants also leave with Sir Faleron and his Majesty?" One of the ladies asked as she looked around. The room was tidy but there was no fire in the fireplace and no refreshments out.

"Sir Faleron and I do not have servants. We prefer to do most of the work ourselves. Considering the circumstances, I will call for tea." She started to go towards the door when Lady Elmina stopped her.

"My Dear, you sit down. You work hard enough. I shall go find tea. You speak with these lovely ladies." With that Gwen found herself sitting in one of the arm chairs facing the four bejeweled ladies on the couches. They all looked at her for a moment quietly and then Lady Elmina was out of the room and the door closed.

"Well, I certainly don't see what he sees in her. She's so plain," came the first well-bred voice. Gwen didn't fully disagree. Compared to these young ladies at this moment, she was plain. She was wearing plain black breeches, a light gray cotton shirt, and had her hair tied back into a horsetail. Her face was bare of paint and the only jewelry she wore was the arrow necklace given to her by Faleron and her betrothal ring. From what they were taught, men liked women who drew their attention. Colors and sparkling jewels would grab their attention and the way they styled their hair and did their face paint made them look more attractive once the men did look their way.

"Is that the ring? If it had been me, he would have known to get something bigger and flashier. It looks so plain and it's so small." One of the other ladies chattered. "Perhaps he didn't see her as valuable enough to spend more coin on a better ring." Gwen resisted the urge to cover her very beautiful ring. It was the only piece of jewelry she wore all of the time without a second thought next to her pregnancy charm. But unlike her pregnancy charm, she could never forget she wore it. She thought it was the most beautiful ring and somehow she had gotten lucky that Faleron had picked it out for her.

"Perhaps he would set the betrothal aside," that voice belonged to the youngest. "I mean, once he sees us in comparison…" This wasn't an uncommon view. After they had started courting there had been some whispers from the ladies that had once tried to win Faleron over that she was a fling or perhaps he could be drawn away, but they had gone away when it became clear that Faleron had picked her. Since their betrothal, they had only heard whispers of regrets from some, but mostly there were just wishes of luck on their relationship.

"Hadely!" The least bejeweled, and clearly one of the oldest, of the four raised her voice. "This is the future Countess of King's Reach. If you insult her, she may not allow Countess Elmina to continue teaching us." Whatever they were supposed to be speaking about, Gwen was certain it wasn't any of this. Perhaps they were supposed to tell her how happy they were, how they could help with planning, about the school, show her how wonderful it had been for them so she allowed it to continue. But now that they had been reminded this plain young woman they had insulted had power over their training come January, the room was silent.

The door opened again from the hall and Gwen was surprised to see Faleron and Roald rather than Lady Elmina. Faleron took one look in the room and frowned. Clearly he didn't expect this company either. The ladies recognized both arrivals immediately and all stood to sweep curtsies and introduce themselves.

"Sir Faleron! The Countess said you were handsome but never before have I laid eyes on a man so dashing!" Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the obvious flirt that came from the youngest.

"We heard you were injured in the recent attack on the palace. We were all so worried that you would succumb to your wounds." The one who called her plain purred.

"Of course he wouldn't succumb to his wounds. He's too strong for that," the one that had insulted her ring argued.

"Excuse me Ladies," Faleron side stepped the line of fawning girls to approach Gwen. She stood when he came over and let him take her into his arms. He kissed her hard, emotion finding its way into the kiss. She didn't have to guess what had caused this sort of passion; she knew he was demonstrating how grateful he was that she wasn't one of those women.

"Oh Fal! It is good to see you take to a woman," Lady Elmina's voice made him pull away. "I feared for a while there that you simply did not like women for all of the ones I sent your way that you sent back." Faleron kissed Gwen once more, a smile on his lips, before he turned to face his mother to go and great her. They embraced and he kissed her cheek. "Oh you don't need to explain yourself," Lady Elmina stopped him when he opened his mouth. "I clearly was sending the wrong sorts of girls. You needed a more well-rounded creature." She beamed at Gwen while behind her at least two of the girls were giving her death glares.

"I appreciate, again, that you allowed me time to coax her out," Faleron grinned at his mother. "What do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I came to introduce myself to Lady Squire Gwendolyn and introduce these lovely ladies," Lady Elmina turned to give an adoring smile to her girls before looking back to Gwen. "And of course, I wanted to offer our services for the wedding planning and bring your betrothed into the plans for the school."

"I apologize, Countess Elmina," Roald emerged from the library. Gwen wasn't sure when he had escaped to hide in there but she guessed it was about the time that the ladies started fawning over Faleron. "But your son and I only came to retrieve Gwen." He turned his attention to her. "If you would go get your uniform on." She bowed to Roald and retreated to her bedroom without listening to the rest. She stepped out of the bedroom a minute later wearing the blue hose, gray shirt, and blue tunic of her uniform and her hair bound back neatly into a bun. "Your cloak too, I'm afraid." Roald told her before she went far.

"Ladies, attend," Lady Elmina's voice carried as Gwen stepped back out. She saw the ladies all straighten their backs and raise their eyes only to Elmina. "Notice how Lady Squire Gwendolyn did not waste time. She changed clothes and restyled her hair immaculately in such short order the tea hasn't even arrived. You may take forever to primp before a ball but what if your escort arrives early? What if a caller comes for you a ball after dawn? You need to learn to be ready to impress quickly."

Roald steered Gwen from the room before she could heard the rest of the lecture she had somehow spawned. "I thought that men were supposed to be kept waiting," she muttered when they were far enough away from the door. "And you're leaving Fal back there to the firing squad?"

"He's going to join us as soon as he can evict them," Roald assured her. "We have a surprise for you." She stopped dead in the hall and refused to move. She did not like surprises. Surprises rarely were good and almost never something she could use, want, or need. Roald seemed to realize she was no longer following and started to laugh. "You'll like this one, I think," he told her. She was led to the royal stables where Rue was already saddled next to Roald's mount waiting for them.

"Where are we going?" Gwen asked when she was mounted up.

"Well, first over to the Own's stables where an escort is preparing. And then we'll wait for Fal. Then it's a surprise," Roald teased.

"And you call me insolent," she pulled a face.

"You aren't insolent if you are in a position of authority. Since I am the King, I'm pretty much never insolent," he chuckled and led her out to the Own's stables. Within fifteen minutes two squads of the Own and Faleron had joined them. None of the men would give her even a hint of what was to come, instead, Faleron turned the conversation back to the ladies that had been in their suite.

"So what had you looking so worn when we came to get you? Mother said she hadn't left you alone with them for more than a couple minutes."

"Besides being called plain, having my ring insulted, and listening to one of them question how easy it would be to lure you away… you didn't look so thrilled to see them either," Gwen raised an eyebrow at her betrothed.

"Women are vicious," one of the men in the Own commented. "I found myself trapped in a room with my mother and her friends discussing marriage prospects for my older brother once. Now I'm in the Own safe from marriage." It raised a laugh from the other men and from Gwen. The conversation turned to stories of escaping crazy women, which turned out to be all women, from the men of the Own riding with them.

They rode for nearly two hours down the Great Road East. She was about to ask for the third time what was going on when they spotted another few squads of the King's Own coming towards them. She got the feeling she was about to find out what was going on. As they drew closer Roald hailed the person in front of the approaching riders and she recognized Captain Domitan of Masbolle the moment he waved back. Slowly riders moved aside and Gwen recognized her father and brother in the heart of the group immediately. At the back of the group she saw the carriage that likely carried her mother and sister. They moved off of the side of the road and Gwen hugged both her father and her brother.

"You look much better," her father informed her when she hugged her brother. "I hope you don't mind, Your Majesty," he turned to Roald, "but there were a few riders we picked up and promised we'd accompany to the palace before we got too far from home."

"Hello, Princess, I hear we have a wedding to attend," Gwen turned to look up at the rider who addressed her and grinned as Aloys. Next to him was a solemn looking Nik and a very plain dressed Edric.

"Your Highness," she bowed to him to show she did recognize him. "What happened to the overly decorated traveling gear?"

"We're traveling a bit undercover," Edric smiled down at her. "Didn't want to draw any extra attention."

"What brings you to Tortall?" Gwen asked as she mounted back up.

"Exactly what the Louse said," Edric teased. "We have a wedding to celebrate."

"Surprise…" Roald teased when she looked to him.

"I hope you trip and fall on your way to the throne in front of court," she told him honestly. "And the wedding insisted until January." She told Edric.

"There's also an Ordeal to support you through," her father reminded her.

"Who's watching Merrywood if you are all here?" Gwen asked. She shifted back between her father and brother to get the news of the fief while they started their way home. The one time she did look away from her father and brother, she saw that Roald, Faleron, Edric, Aloys, and Nik were conversing in hushed tones. She knew she could get the answers of that conversation from Faleron later so she turned her attention back to her family.

When they arrived back at the palace, Gwen was ushered away from the men by an insistent Aurelia and her mother and whisked away to the suite they would be occupying. If she thought that being surprised by Countess Elmina and her ladies was bad enough, her mother and sister had her feeling completely unprepared. They laid out lists of guests, flowers, colors, decorations, attendants, schedules, menu options, drawings of hair styles and facepaint, jewelry…she stared at the ever growing pile horrified.

"The Lady is required to plan all of this?" She demanded.

"Most women know this sort of thing before they even get betrothed," Aurelia told her with a smile. "Haven't you ever dreamed about your wedding Gwenie?"

"Honestly, no," Gwen gulped, feeling overwhelmed to an insane degree.

"I can't say you pick the easy path, Dear," her mother crooned. "A high profile wedding in roughly three months? We'll need to get a gown ordered right away and flowers will need to be ordered. Your menu needs to be picked out soon as well so they can make sure they have enough on hand."

"I have a gown ordered, Mama," she managed to squeeze out of her throat. Her mind was racing. She needed to do all of this, somehow work with Countess Elmina on whatever she needed to plan for the school, and prepare for her Ordeal. Her sister and mother continued chatting, showing her samples of things they thought would be pretty while her mind tried hard to work through how she would get it all done.

She let them chat at her all the way to a late dinner in their dining room with her father, brother, Faleron, Countess Elmina, and her four ducklings present. Elmina, her mother, Aurelia, and the four ladies all expressed their ideas, discussing some of the more 'high profile' weddings they had seen. Gwen listened to it all, trying to form some sort of ideas of her own that didn't involve going back in time and telling Faleron to take her down to find a magistrate the moment he had joked about marrying quickly. Faleron's hand found hers under the table and he kept it captive.

"Have you thought of what sort of veil will go best with the gown you ordered? We'll have to get that ordered as well," her mother asked her directly.

"Actually," Gwen had an answer for that one. She looked up and met Aurelia's eyes and smiled. "Aurelia made something for me to wear that I had the gown designed around." That sparked a whole new conversation that led to Aurelia's lace tatting and away from the wedding altogether.

After dinner Faleron led her back to their suite. "You look overwhelmed," he commented as they walked.

"How am I supposed to do all of that and get ready for my Ordeal?" She asked him seriously. "And then your mother and the school… she wants to talk about it."

"That can wait until after the Ordeal and the wedding. As for the wedding, you have me and we'll make some decisions together." He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Let's get to our suite, go hide under the covers in our bed, and we can talk through it all." His lips moved down to hers when they reached the door to their suite. By how passionate his kisses were getting she guessed that they weren't going to be doing much of the talking he had just offered but she could also use a distraction. She could feel him working the key into the lock and push the door open. The door closed behind them again and he kept his lips on hers as he pressed her back against it and locked it behind her back.

"Eh hem," came a voice from behind them. Gwen almost cursed out loud when Faleron broke away from her and they saw the sitting room was occupied by Roald, Edric, Nik, Aloys, Myles, and George. Roald smiled up at them looking a bit sheepish. "I thought we might take a little more of your time tonight," Roald's voice held even.

"You thought wrong, get out," Faleron stepped aside and pointed at the door.

"It's important. It's about Gwen's little theory about Deerwood and Tusaine."


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N: Sorry this took longer than usual! I got most of the way through writing this chapter today and then stepped away from my computer for an hour. In that time the last two paragraphs of the document got corrupted and froze all of MS word. I've spent the last two hours recovering the entire story. So... have fun reading because I worked very hard to get this back.**

Roald sat watching Gwen and Faleron stand at the door a moment longer. He had never heard Faleron order him out of his room before let alone a foreign prince, two foreign diplomats, and the two spymasters of Tortall. Then again he had never witnessed Faleron pinning his squire to the door before in such a manner. Faleron actually looked livid as he stalked over to the only open couch and sat. Gwen hovered for a moment at the door an unreadable look on her face.

"Is this going to take long?" She asked finally.

"It might," Myles motioned for her to take the seat next to Faleron. She stood for a moment, her cheeks faintly red.

"Come on, Princess," Aloys teased. "The sooner you sit, the sooner we can leave you and your betrothed to the throes of passion."

"We really can't do this in the morning?" She asked finally. Roald stared at her. Gwen almost never tried to get out of meetings when they were presented to her. She always pushed through being tired, being sick, being injured to do whatever needed to be done. On top of that this meeting was apparently truly important. Not even he had been briefed on what would be said but he did know that Myles and Edric had asked for the first available moment for all of them to gather.

"It would be best to do it now," Myles told her, not unkindly. She sighed and went to go sit not on the couch by Faleron but in the only open armchair. "Good, now I believe his Highness, Prince Edric has done some investigation on Deerwood from his side of the border."

"Right, now Squire Gwen, can I forgo titles for right now? Right, now Gwen, when you had Roald contact us a few weeks ago I was confused. It had been my understanding that the nobles on our border to Tortall that had lost land in the wars had lost partial lands but had stayed in Tusaine, leaving our Crown to deal with the fallout of angry nobles that have lost lands to another country." Edric shuddered. "I was under the impression that all of our nobles that had the majority of their lands in Tusaine, stayed in Tusaine. It would make more sense."

"Why leave behind over eighty percent of your lands?" Aloys offered but Nik shushed him.

"Gwen said over half of the lands were in Tusaine," Faleron interrupted Edric before he could start. "Maybe I misinterpreted what that meant. Eighty percent of their land?"

Edric sighed and nodded to Nik who unrolled a current map of Tusaine on the low table between the chairs and couches. Nik took out a piece of charcoal. "This is the borders of Fief Breighley," he explained as he sketched out a large outline around the northwest corner of Tusaine. He looked to Gwen and then offered up the charcoal. "I believe you might know the other side better." She shifted from her seat to the floor and took the charcoal. After a moment she started to draw a much smaller outline in Tortall.

"And this is Deerwood in Tortall," she added quietly. The picture was one that showed exceptional disproportionate distribution of the land. "Deerwood, barely a barony in Tortall and a dukery in Tusaine even with this piece missing." Gwen sighed and sat back on her heels.

"Deerwood had the option to stay in Tusaine," Edric explained. "He would have kept his slightly reduced lands. The lands left behind have the majority of the wealth producing assets."

"But Deerwood made a deal with King Jasson that if he joined Tortall, clearly the growing kingdom and more wealthy, stronger, and viable kingdom," Myles held up a hand to stop protests from Edric, Nik, and Aloys. "This is the gist of the letters I discovered from Deerwood to King Jasson, not my expression of my personal opinion."

"He made a deal," Edric prompted with a slight smile.

"He made a deal that he would retain the lands that he once had and that Jasson would either gain them by further fighting for them by the treaty that he put in place with Tusaine to stop the wars." Myles tapped the map. "Squire Gwen, be a dear and explain what happened then."

Roald looked to his squire curious as to how she would know the answers. That she could draw the borders of her neighboring fiefdom was one thing. It was expected that every noble knew the boundaries of their fief and the fiefs around them. Gwen was frowning, her brow puckered in thought. Then she looked up at Myles who smiled and nodded at her.

"Barzun," she said finally. "King Jasson stopped expanding east and completely focused on expanding south, to completely eliminate Barzun as a country. The tribes of the Bazhir were harder for him to fight against because, while Tusaine had and has an effective army, their army is quite like the Tortallan army. The tribes of Barzun were wildcards. They fought differently, had different magics, had the expertise of the terrain and the climate on their hands. It took all of King Jasson's focus so he signed a treaty with Tusaine quickly. Deerwood's deal was perhaps forgotten or ignored in order to quickly end negotiations with Tusaine."

"Very good, Squire Gwen," Myles turned to Roald. "She has an aptitude for scholarship. I set her to report on the Conquering of Barzun for my class nearly six years ago. Excellent memory, my Dear, and you have an excellent ability to draw conclusions. Yes, King Jasson ignored Deerwood's request simply because Tusaine wouldn't give up that land without a fight and he had a bigger fish to net in the south."

"Deerwood was unable to crawl back to Tusaine after voluntarily leaving. He would have taken all of his wealth with him to the Tortallan side when switching, believing it would hold him over until he gained his lands back," Aloys grinned.

"The Lord didn't make trouble right away either," George offered. "I'm sure he thought he could live comfortably on his wealth and invest his wealth as young Squire Gwendolyn has done to expand it."

"Except," Gwen interrupted. "King Jasson went on Progress after the war and made the nobles pay for everything, especially the new nobles. He drained their treasuries so they couldn't afford to raise armies against him. Deerwood's wealth would have been obliterated. And Deerwood is a lot like Merrywood. Wealth is hard to come by. You can trap for fur and cut down trees but it's limited. Take too much and you destroy next year's income or the year after that or the year after that. You make enough to get by but not enough for excess."

"Or what excess there is goes into much needed repairs," Faleron stepped in. Roald knew that he was well aware of the state of things at Merrywood. Some comment Gwen had made about allowing her wealth to be accessed for repairs had sent him to asking Roald for the information he had on Gwen's fief.

"So how did they raise enough money to attempt to assassinate the Prince of Tortall multiple times, pay for his squire to be kidnapped and tortured, and pay mercenaries to attack the palace of Tortall if they have no excess coin?" Nik asked.

"Deerwood is in disrepair. They haven't paid much mind to their people for years," Gwen announced. "They've been putting away what excess they do receive. They poach from their neighbor's lands to add to it."

"And on top of all of that, the rebellion in Tusaine sent the now deceased Lord of Deerwood a large amount of coin to disrupt the Tortallan side," George explained.

The puzzle pieces coming together from all sides made a grim picture of Deerwood. Four generations of barons resenting Conte for wartime politics had cultivated a large problem when they finally had funding. If Tusaine had been more united in the wanting of war to regain the lands, it could have created a much larger issue and possibly lost Tortallan lives, land, and assets. That the actual fief and people of Deerwood had suffered disrepair and poverty due to such a grievance was a large oversight on the Crown's behalf. How many other fiefs were suffering due to grievances or nobility simply wanting to build their wealth? How much of that wealth was being built to be turned against the Crown at some point in the future? How many noble privileges would he violate if he pursued wanting to find it out?

"How many other fiefs on the border were once part of Tusaine?" Roald heard himself ask. Those in Tusaine on the border had lost lands. Only Deerwood had lost so much of its land and opted into Tortall. But other Tusaine fiefdoms had become Tortallan simply by their entire lands being conquered. Talk ranged to them now. Edric, Aloys, and Nik expanded on the history of those fiefs from the Tusaine standpoint while Myles and George offered information from the Tortallan standpoint. This was the truly important part of the meeting. Never before had Tortall worked so closely with another kingdom to uncover unrest in both countries.

"That leaves the only fief that borders Tusaine now that originally belonged to Tortall. And that is, of course, Merrywood," Myles looked up from his notes to look up at Gwen. He paused. Roald turned to look up at his squire with everyone else to figure out what had caused Myles to pause so. Gwen was curled up against the arm of the chair in a small ball, fast asleep.

"When did she fall asleep?" Aloys asked looking around.

"We've been at this quite a while," Faleron stood and stretched before going to kneel in front of Gwen. He brushed a few loose hairs away from her face. She didn't even twitch showing how fast asleep she was.

"I believe we've covered a great deal tonight," Myles rose and dismissed himself. George left without a word on his behalf. Roald looked to the others and realized they wouldn't leave until he did.

"She was exhausted long before we got back to these rooms tonight," Faleron sighed. "I should have insisted this wait until the morning."

"She didn't look too exhausted when you two came in," Nik baited. "I think you're just wishing you had gotten rid of us because you missed the chance to bed her yet tonight."

Roald waited, his breath held. On the ride earlier that day Faleron had offered Nik his opinion of the letter that had accompanied the gift Gwen had received from him the last Midwinter. In no unclear terms, he had threatened Nik if he so much as flirted in Gwen's direction. While Faleron had a slow temper, any insult to Gwen or jab at their relationship could light the flame into a wildfire without warning. Roald wasn't certain that Faleron would hold to diplomacy if Nik kept his current course. But Faleron simply turned on his knees to look at Roald.

"Aurelia and Gwen's mother overwhelmed her with bridals plans when we arrived back and then my mother and her ladies got into the conversation at dinner. My mother wants to talk to her about the school too while she's here. She's trying to figure out how she's supposed to plan a wedding, deal with the school, and prepare for her Ordeal. And I was simply trying to distract her from such thoughts so she would get some sleep yet tonight." He explained. "I'm going to take her to bed now. I expect that you'll show yourselves out and lock the door behind you." Faleron stood and scooped Gwen into his arms. He carried her into their bedroom. The door closed quietly but firmly.

"I was sure he was going to punch you, Nik," Aloys' voice drew Roald's mind away from the fact that Faleron was now tasked with getting his sleeping betrothed ready for bed while trying not to disturb her rest.

"Why do you push his tolerance?" Edric asked. "The poor man has had his limits of his patience pushed enough with that young woman in the time that he's known her." Roald felt the burn of his temper flare but he held it in check as he faced Edric. The Prince of Tusaine held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't mean it as a slight against your squire, Roald," he sighed. "Don't tell me she slept peacefully after she arrived home from my palace. Don't tell me that she didn't have nightmares and daymares and anxieties."

Roald remembered the night that Faleron had claimed Gwen's bed as his own. Neal had described Faleron as panicked at best when he was cursing at him to get her out of the nightmares. Neal had also described how terrorizing Gwen's screams had been. Faleron hadn't cared much for Roald's opinion of them sharing a bed after that and after that Faleron barely visited the inside of his own rooms. And the torture spell he had caught a glimpse of during their betrothal announcement had made him afraid for her.

"I have nightmares for her," Aloys admitted. "You didn't hear her screaming, Ed. When they raped her, I didn't need to see what was going on to know what they were doing to her. And the torture spell… I know you know how that sounds now, your Majesty, but imagine that going on for hours." He shuddered. "Lay off of him, Nik. I told you that ahead of time. You want to pursue a Merrywood? Her sister, Aurelia, is more up to your standards." Nik, looking properly ashamed, turned and left the room without another word.

"I'm not sure I want to ask, but why do you know that Aurelia of Merrywood is what he might be looking for?" Roald turned to Aloys.

"We did travel together for a while before you showed up to meet up for the last two hours. Beyond that, we're practically neighbors. I like to take an interest in my neighbors. It pays off in the end." Aloys winked at Roald. "Tell Gwen if she needs someone to help her focus on her Ordeal, I happen to have survived my own… somehow."

"Of course, Sir Aloys," Roald nodded to the man.

"Now I had best make sure my brother doesn't get lost," Aloys followed Nik out of the door.

"I think I'd like to make Aloys my ambassador to Tortall when I become King," Edric announced. "He's pretty much settling in comfortably already."

"I'll welcome him when he comes," Roald grinned. "I apologize that the meeting ended early."

"It's well after midnight," Edric grinned. "It is not early. Your untiring squire passed out. That was a sign that the meeting should have ended five minutes before that even happened." He took a step towards the door and stopped. "This Deerwood thing and the other fiefs that might be an issue, they are simply inherited issues. I'll be inheriting my fair share of issues as well on my side. I know the position that you are in, those lands belong to Tortall now and have since before your grandfather was born. You have a duty to keep them. I have a duty to soothe the egos of the nobles who were told stories about once having more land by saying that I tried. Yes, I would love to have the fiefs that belong to Tusaine back as well as the River Drell for access to a trade route. But I acknowledge that hasn't belonged to us in a century. I don't think you're going to give me a reason to want the trouble that takes it back. We're practically brothers in duty. Remember that."

Roald thought long and hard about that on his way back to his suite. It was nice to have some sort of assurance that the next ruler of Tusaine wasn't planning to cause war. Perhaps they had seen enough issues within their own borders of hillmen and immortals looking to cause problems. It was a relief, honestly. His generation had only known immortals and war. They had lost many young men and women to battles and wounds. Now it was the time to rebuild. He needed to rebuild the treasury, the confidence the people had in the Crown and Tortall, and prosperity for all.

His father had once called his grandfather weak in a sense. He had once considered giving up Tortallan land simply to avoid war. But there was a balance that he had been trying to preserve. That King Roald had simply been dealing with the children of those who had lost lands to Tortall. He had simply been holding together a resentful realm. There were also stories of parties often and feasts each night where all of court dined together. Pages served every night. His father had changed that and had inherited a mess simply because of his cousin. Then he had made the realm prosper in wealth in thankless conditions. Roald wanted to further that goal and they needed to start by rebuilding after the war with Scanra and the losses from the Immortal Wars before that.

He stepped into his room and grinned as Shinko sat up in bed. He'd tell her in the morning about everything that had been discussed in the meeting. But now the thoughts of rebuilding the population were making him think of what that might entail. And he and Shinko should lead by example. He stripped down, leaving his clothes in a very unroyal heap on the floor as he crawled into the bed and proceeded to remove Shinko's nightgown. He plucked at the pregnancy charm she had donned after the last birth. They had agreed to a break. She had given him three beautiful children already and she did deserve a break.

"I've been thinking," her quiet, accented voice brought his attention up to her face. "I think I'd like to have another baby. I know we agreed to take a break until we were more established…"

He didn't let her finish her thought. The charm was in his hands and then it was lost to the floor like everything else. Very briefly before he gave his attention completely over to his wife, he thought it might be a good idea to sleep in due to the late meeting and to have a note sent to Gwen and Faleron telling them to forget their morning duties. But when he would write that note and send it, he didn't know. There were more pressing matters in front of him now and it was unlikely he'd wake before Gwen and Faleron did to get it to them in time.


	49. Chapter 49

Gwen woke late the next morning, without her clothes, in bed, unsure of how she had gotten there or when she had gone to bed. She was alone in the bed which marked that it was late enough for Faleron to have gotten up without her. That alone felt strange. He was almost always at least nearby when she woke. She got up and wrapped up in her silk dressing robe then went to open the door to the sitting room. Just beyond the door she heard men's voices and she remembered the meeting from the night before. Did it end or had she simply fallen asleep and they were still carrying on? How much information had they covered if they were still carrying on? Would Roald be angry with her for missing so much of the meeting? She wrapped the dressing robe tighter and peeked out to see Faleron sitting in one of the armchairs and four others all with mugs of tea, talking quietly. While it was Edric, Nik, and Aloys, it didn't appear to be the meeting as the fourth man with them was her brother Rylan.

"Excuse me," Faleron set his cup on the table and stood. He turned to smile at her looking out at him and ignored the looks of the other men as he came back to push her back into the bedroom. He smiled down at her for a moment and cupped her face. "You can go back to sleep, Love. Roald sent a note down about twenty minutes ago saying he doesn't have anything for you to do today, or me for that matter."

"Did I fall asleep during the meeting?" She asked feeling her cheeks burn when he nodded.

"All useful information was done with long before then," he assured her. "I hope you don't mind that I didn't bother with finding your nightshirt," he toyed with the edges of her robe. "Though I'd put on something more than this if you go out there. I don't want Sir Nikolas even looking twice at you."

"You're silly," she told him honestly. While Nik might have still been interested in her, she wasn't interested in him. Faleron had nothing to fear, she knew that and she knew he ought to know such things. But even though he was level headed most of the time, she did allow him his moments to be a typical male. "What's going on out there?" She hoped to redirect him.

"Your brother stopped by wanting to see if you wanted to show him how well you do with his crossbow. Aloys came to offer to help you get ready for the Ordeal since he believes that you might need an ally on that front. The other two seemed to follow Aloys and none of them left when I told them you were still sleeping." He shook his head. "Get dressed, I'll have something brought up for you to eat." He kissed her nose and then her lips.

Gwen retreated to the dressing room to put on a pair of charcoal colored breeches, a canvas practice shirt, and bound her hair back into a braid. She took the crossbow from its place on her weapons stand and brought it with her out to the sitting room. Her appearance with such a large weapon had Edric and Nik looking a bit surprised as she stepped out. Rylan and Aloys were grinning. Faleron was still missing, she assumed he was still out looking for something for her to eat.

"The Princess awakes," Aloys teased.

"The first words you said to me," Gwen informed him.

"The first words I said to you when you were conscious," he corrected. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"So I've been informed you think you're going to offer to help me prepare for the Ordeal," she turned the conversation away from the memories that followed that moment to what was ahead. Part of her knew that if she was to face what was ahead she had to work through what was behind her. While she still had nightmares here and there from the torture spell and the rape, she was slowly becoming neutral to the rest of the things that had been done to her. She hadn't forgotten but she was no longer afraid of the memories.

"I figured you needed someone on your side," he grinned. "Not that Sir Faleron or His Majesty don't have your best interests in mind but they are preoccupied as well." Gwen felt herself bristle at the indication that Fal or Roald might not be helping her but she made herself think through it. Faleron was balancing his work, his mother, the wedding, and helping her. Roald was the King of a large country. She had been focusing on most of this on her own. Physically, she was up to standard. Mentally, she wasn't sure if she had the flexibility to not break under the Chamber of Ordeal's testing.

She didn't even know what she was facing in the Chamber of Ordeal. She knew it was a test. She knew it required flexibility. She knew that something to do with her tortures would likely come into play by the way that Roald and Faleron spoke in hushed tones between each other when they thought she wasn't listening. She had heard that it looked for flaws and hammered them open. All of whatever it was had to be endured while she completed the tests and kept silent about it. And for the most part, that was all almost any squire knew going in. Most people survived the Ordeal but had nightmares, others were injured, some were left alive to confess to a misdeed. And a very rare few were robbed of their lives.

"Alright, it's too far from breakfast to have gotten that but I figured I'd take a chance on some midday," Faleron announced coming back into the room with a covered tray. "Dining room?" He nodded to the door where the table and chairs were.

"Library," Gwen sighed. "I was working on something when I was interrupted yesterday and I never got to finish. This way I can at least multitask."

"Accounts?" Faleron asked following her towards the library.

"Whatever else do I do?" She teased.

By the time she finished with her accounts and midday, she was ready to do something physical. She went out to steal Rylan and her crossbow to take down to the practice courts. She was aware that she had an audience following them as her brother watched her shoot his handiwork. The crossbow was a series of tradeoffs from her much beloved bow. While it could stay cocked and loaded without losing tension and remain ready to go, it took longer to load. While it shot with the same amount of force as one of the six foot longbows, it took a different kind of strength and accuracy to reload quickly. There was also a slight kickback with the crossbow that her regular bow lacked completely. Part of her physical training that she had taken on alone had been to master the down up reload. One shot, down, bolt in place, cocked, up, aim, shoot. Once she had the physical muscle memory of the action she had worked on making it faster. Now she was about half as fast with a crossbow as she was with her bow, which was about the maximum speed and accuracy a person could get.

Nik, Edric, and Faleron weren't the only watchers that found their way down to the practice courts while she shot with Rylan. By the time she turned around Lady Elmina and her ladies were there watching as well as Aurelia and her mother. She felt like she was on display as they spoke quietly amongst themselves but watched her every move. It distracted her and finally she handed the crossbow over to Rylan for him to shoot. She guessed it would be a problem that she would face throughout the stay of all of these people which would mean it would go until after her Ordeal straight through to the wedding. She had two options: work through it or work around it. She tried all day to work through it as Rylan put her through her paces with her sword, polearms, and hand to hand combat as well.

Usually she found weapons practice to be calming. There was a certain satisfaction to having complete control of the body. It wasn't just that they were watching her, she had dealt with being watched. It was that she felt that they believed that she wasn't doing what she needed to be doing. Aurelia and the other ladies weren't exactly they types to enjoy weaponry but they were talking about her wedding. When she stepped in close enough she had heard them whispering about wedding plans and how she was wasting her time doing the same repetitive movements when she could be getting things in order for the perfect wedding. Elmina and her mother, while approving of her practicing, were reminders of all of the things she did have yet to plan.

That night, as she laid in bed while Faleron was preparing for bed, she thought it over. She didn't want to work through their intrusions. She needed to work around them for her own sanity. That meant she needed to find a time in which no one expected her to be on the practice courts and no one would be looking for her and accidentally find her on the practice courts. She bet that no one was on the practice courts at this moment and since they had claimed they were going to bed, she doubted anyone would be looking for either of them. With a sigh she pushed herself out of bed and began to pull on her practice clothes.

"Where are you going?" Faleron demanded.

"The practice courts," she knew she couldn't hide from Faleron. He'd certainly be aware that she was missing from bed.

"I told you that if you aren't tired we could certainly wear you out some," he caught her around the waist and pulled her into him. Before she could protest much he was removing the clothes she had just put on.

"It's not that I'm not tired," she giggled as he threw her back on the bed. Anything else she would have said was cut off by his kisses. After she laid there, tucked against him and explained her thoughts. When she was done talking through why she wanted to go to the practice courts, Faleron turned the conversation to their wedding. Though both of them were tired, they started to talk through what they both wanted, who they wanted there, and the lists of things that her mother had told her she needed to get through yet and soon.

Despite the late night, Gwen was awake early with Faleron writing up all of the things that she and he had discussed in bed. She dropped the bundle of information off with her mother and then she ran to Roald's study. There was no note saying not to report in for a second day so she assumed he was ready for her. He was, with a stack of papers that needed her attention.

When she returned to her room after dinner, Faleron was waiting with Aloys. They talked for an hour or so and then they gathered up her things and went down to one of the indoor practice courts. Between Faleron and Aloys, she received a thorough workout. She found she liked the quiet time in which she could practice with just Fal and Aloys, though it cut into her sleep time. She made it a part of her plan to keep her going until December.

The next two months followed the established pattern. She and Faleron met with her mother and Lady Elmina for breakfast. The two of them had overtaken the task of making sure the wedding was planned without intruding on Gwen's schedule too much. They had eliminated the other ladies and Aurelia from the initial planning and had them carrying out things after the plans were in place. After wedding planning time during breakfast, Gwen joined Roald who was quick to give her work. She read reports on the fiefs they were suspicious of and made shortened notes for Roald to read through eventually. After working with Roald through the late morning and most of the afternoon, she had dinner with her family. Then it was back to her rooms to wait out time with Faleron and Aloys until the practice courts were empty.

In that hour between after dinner and the practice courts, Faleron and Aloys spent time casually reminding her of things that she was certain were supposed to gauge if she was terrified or not. They mentioned the rape, the tortures, the moments where she wasn't sure if Faleron was alive or dead, the attacks on herself and Roald, and the one time that she was afraid for Aurelia. She knew they were trying to help her in some way but some nights she was happy just to get to the practice courts and then to bed by the time they started in. Faleron made it up to her when they were alone. He kissed her and apologized for bringing up bad thoughts. He always seemed to know when they had pushed a little too much. But she was ultimately grateful that he and Aloys were trying to find ways to prepare her for the mental side of the Ordeal and she told him such.

By the time December came around, Gwen was relieved of her duties to Roald. He had explained that he wanted her to spend time with Faleron and her family before the Ordeal. While she appreciated what he believed he was doing for her, she didn't like the additional time to think and worry. She set herself to working with Elmina to find a weapon's master for the ladies and subtle changes to the teachings that would help the ladies be more independent of their husbands. She added information on investing from what she had learned from her own investments so that ladies could not only manage the household and the funds, but also increase them on their own to help with the years that were slow or where the harvest met disaster. When she had exhausted her work with Elmina, she cornered Aloys for history lessons from Tusaine. She knew some from being a border fief but she wanted to know more. He assured her that he had enough knowledge that she wouldn't be bored until well after her Ordeal.

She did spend time with her mother, father, brother, sister, and Faleron throughout those few weeks in December. Often Faleron kept her late into the morning and reclaimed her immediately after dinner for some time for just the two of them to be alone together. She heard whispers from the ladies that followed Elmina around and from Nik and Aloys that it was believed she and Faleron spent all of that time bedding in case the unthinkable happened and they wanted to be tired of each other before then. While they did make love, most of that time was spent cuddled up on the couch in front of the fire or in the bed reading separate books and just spending time together. Sometimes Faleron would ask her about the family she wanted to have, names she liked for children, and how many she wanted.

"Did Roald approach you to be my second knight?" She asked one night when they were alone in bed. She had assumed it would be Faleron as her second instructor during her Ordeal since he was the knight that spent the most time with her besides Roald.

"No, he informed me when I started courting you that I wouldn't be who he approached," Faleron revealed. "He doesn't want me interfering if I'm afraid. He wants me to say my loving words of encouragement long before you come to him for instruction." He sighed. "I'm far more in control of my emotions than he thinks I am."

"Except when you think I'm in danger," Gwen told him. "You might be in control but you act quickly and it looks irrational."

"I suppose you could be right. You are my weakness." He teased and nuzzled her. "I doubt he'll have a problem finding a second knight for you. You're very well liked. Chances are he has someone already and he just wants to keep it a surprise. You know he likes to surprise you."

"Well, even if it is a surprise, I'll know sometime within the next week and a half." Midwinter was just about to start and she knew the next night Roald would be there when Shinko drew the names of the squires out of the bowl to discover the order in which they would undergo their Ordeals. She wasn't sure if she preferred to go first or last. All she really hoped in the end, was that she could survive.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: Thank you all for the Reviews, Favorites, and Follows. In this chapter I do directly use information from Tamora Pierce. The Code of Chivalry is directly quoted from Tamora Pierce wiki which is taken from her books. Please read and review!**

Luck wasn't something Gwen counted on too much. She had been called lucky because for all of her close calls with death, she was alive. With all of the horrible injuries she had had over the last three and a half years, she was not permanently injured. But it wasn't lucky to have died three times. It wasn't lucky to have found herself a target of an assassin's order. It wasn't lucky to have been snatched from the borders of Tortall and imprisoned and tortured. The things that she counted herself lucky for were not what others paid much mind to during her squire years. She was lucky she had been in the right place at the right time to protect Roald. She did not regret that at all, both times she had taken weapons for him. She considered herself lucky that Roald cared about her enough to push his best friend into acting long before her Ordeal on notions of romance. She had been lucky she had found Fal. She had been lucky that he was there for her when life seemed the hardest. She had been lucky, through chance alone, to have found Aloys as a good friend. She had been lucky in her family's support. So luck was oddly balanced in her life. She was blessed with good and cursed with bad.

When the results came back from Roald about where she stood in line for her Ordeal, she could have laughed, had it not been about her Ordeal. She was to sit vigil on Longnight, the longest night of the year. Though it was only a few minutes longer at the most, it meant she would hold the longest vigil. And while everyone else woke up in the morning to presents from loved ones, she would be walking into the Chamber that would decide her fate. And with it being the second night of Midwinter, she didn't have as much time to savor life as it was at the current time. She didn't air these thoughts for anyone else to hear. They were worried enough about it and she was supposed to be strong. She had been strong for everything that had come before. This was only a room. Only an unknown, magical room that could maim, kill, and leave the majority of survivors waking up in the night screaming.

In the day and a half before her Ordeal her family came together around her. They ate together at every meal. She went shopping with her mother and sister. She went riding with her father and brother. She sat and talked with Roald, Edric, Nik, and Aloys late into the evening. She did it all with Faleron at her side. Upon finding out the results, Faleron had stuck to her like a burr. She guessed he was possibly more nervous about her Ordeal than she was. She could understand that. He wasn't going to be able to protect her from whatever was inside of the Chamber. He could only sit and watch an iron door in hopes it would open on her alive and well. She guessed he was even more terrified for her because he knew what she faced, or the idea of what she might face really. The Ordeal of Knighthood was specialized to each individual that undertook it. It probably never rehashed the same thing twice and no one would ever know. The only reason they knew that the Chamber produced different trials for everyone was how they came out. Some came out weeping. Others came out covered in blood, their own or a nameless something else. Some came out drenched in water, in sweat, in nameless liquids. Others lost fingers, toes, eyes, hands, in one noted case a leg. She doubted these were all from the same trials.

The morning before her Ordeal, she slept in with Faleron holding her close. When she did wake, it was to his kisses and his loving. They talked in length about how excited they were for the wedding and how nice it would be to just be left alone at King's Reach for a couple of months when it was done. They talked about children and the future beyond the night and the next day. When they were done, they made love once more. They ate midday with Roald, Edric, Nik, and Aloys and dinner with her family. She napped for part of the afternoon. Then when the sun started to set, she and Faleron held hands and walked down to the antechamber outside of the Chapel of Ordeal. Roald stood there with Neal as his second knight. She hugged Faleron tight and held out the betrothal ring to him. It wouldn't be allowed in the chamber with her.

When she was done with her goodbyes to Faleron she entered the antechamber and bathed until she was certain her skin was red with how hard she had scrubbed. She put on the undyed cotton shirt and breeches and admitted Roald and Neal.

"If you survive the Ordeal of Knighthood, you will be a knight of the realm. You will be sworn to protect those weaker than you, to obey your overlord, to live in a way that honors the kingdom and your gods." Roald started.

"To wear the shield of a knight is an important thing. It means you may not ignore a cry for help. It means that rich and poor, young and old, male and female may look to you for rescue and you may not deny them." She watched Neal's face as he said the words. He was a passionate man and these were the words that he lived by when few other field knights did.

"You are bound to uphold the law. You may not look away from wrongdoing. You may not help anyone to break the law of the land, and you must prevent the breaking of the law at all times, in all cases." Roald added. Thanks to him and Faleron, she knew the laws of the land like no other.

"You are bound by your honor and your word. Act in such a way that when you face the Dark God you need not be ashamed." Neal's face was strained. Perhaps he was recalling, as she was, the time she had been pulled back from death in this palace. Up to this point, she was not afraid to meet the God of the Dead.

"You have learned the laws of Chivalry. Keep them in your heart. Use them as your guides when things are at their darkest. They will not fail you if you interpret them with humanity and kindness." Roald recited to her, a smile on his face.

"A knight is gentle, a knight's first duty is to understand," Neal sighed and looked to Roald for only a brief moment before taking her in a hard hug.

"From this point forward you are not allowed to speak until after the Ordeal," Roald reminded her as was his duty to do so. He hugged her as well and then guided her into the Chapel of Ordeal.

At the front of the unheated Chapel was a small bench that faced the altar at the front and the iron door to its side. She tried not to think about the Ordeal itself. It would come when it came and she simply had to think on the Code of Chivalry that had been recited to her. Except she couldn't think on the Code for long. She didn't think about if she was cold, she was. The Chapel was unheated and she was still damp from the bath. She didn't think about the way the undyed cotton chafed on her skin. She didn't think about the long night ahead of her. Instead her mind wandered to the little boy she had pulled out of the flood waters up in the City of the Gods. What had he lived to become? He would be old enough to be making his life decisions as a commoner. She had believed her life had changed so drastically at that meeting of fates. She had given up becoming a lady to be a knight, the exact opposite of a lady in Convent standards. Yet, she wasn't so sure they were all of the different. She had, in a round about way, achieved the dream that so many Convent ladies had deemed unattainable. She was to be the next Countess of King's Reach. She was in King Roald's private circle. She was wealthy by all standards. She was honored in two countries. Status-wise she was fairly set in life. Wealth-wise she was as well. She could stop at any time and just coast through the rest of her life on what she had already done.

But that's not what a knight was. She might ask to be a desk knight in order to stay close to Roald and to become Kai's tutor, but she would still answer any call for help she came across. She wasn't one to shirk her duty, even when it wasn't her duty. It hadn't been her duty to save that boy from the flood waters, but she had done it. It hadn't been her direct duty to protect Roald, but she had done it. The Code of Chivalry was something she would have to live by from this point forward, but hadn't she always done so? How many listened to those words and knew it would be hard to follow? How many listened to those words and laughed inside? Most nobles seemed to have no problem protecting those who asked for help that were wealthy. What about those nobles who refused to help the poor, women, children, the elderly? Was it they that the Ordeal rejected? Or was it that they had ignored such a thing before? Vinson of Genlith had beaten and raped women in the Lower City. Had it faulted him for the crime or because it had been a smudge on the Code of Chivalry? Had it turned his past against him or something he would do again in the future against his vows? Lady Knight Keladry had said that the Chamber of Ordeal had once said it saw everything from the past to the future. It would know if there was to be such a great smirch of honor in the future. But it had let treacherous knights through before? So perhaps it didn't judge by future deeds. Perhaps it only judged on the past and the present. Perhaps it gave a chance to redeem oneself inside and those squires had failed. Did she need to be redeemed? She didn't know. She couldn't remember any time she had faulted so bad, but then again, whoever really thought their transgressions were unjustified?

A hand on her shoulder made her look up. The priests were there and the first light of the sun was coming through the window at the back of the chapel to touch the sundisk on the wall. She rose and followed the priest to the open iron door. Already the chapel was filling with loved ones and curiosity seekers. She could sense Faleron rather than see him, standing with Roald near the front. She couldn't guess at how long they had been watching her or if either of them had slept. She doubted she would sleep if it were Faleron in her position. She stepped into the Chamber and the door closed behind her with a sound like the dungeon cell in Tusaine.

_She heard keys jingle and footsteps approaching. She looked up from the stone floor to see she was in her tiny dungeon cell on the floor. Looking across the way she saw the faint outline of Aloys. The person approaching brought light with them. She closed her eyes against it because it hurt after being in the dark so long._

_'__Is she sleeping?' she heard a familiar voice._

_'__She's been quiet for some time so I assume so,' that was Aloys._

_'__The Tortallan Prince keeps asking after her. Has she told you anything?' She placed that voice now. It was Nik._

_'__I told you I need more time with her not in pain to get her to open up,' Aloys responded. 'If you keep torturing her to the point that she goes insane, we'll get nothing on either front.'_

_'__Your part of the plan wasn't to criticize my methods. You agreed to simply sit down here and be her friend, her comrade in the dungeons. Get her to talk to you.' Nik snapped. She bit her lip trying to keep her surprise from escaping her mouth. 'Lord Bariden and I are bringing in a mage to extract the information. Edric wants her to talk before the Tortallan Prince takes the Crown. Then he can have her located, rescued, and returned and we look like heroes to him. Once that's done we can take back the land that belongs to Tusaine and a good chunk more as well. We'll see how they like losing parts of their country.'_

This couldn't be real. This conversation didn't happen. Aloys was a friend and Edric didn't want war. This conversation didn't happen. She slept lightly and was always awake when lanterns or the sound of keys came down the hall. If Aloys had been an informant on her, he could only report when she was away from her cell. If Aloys had been an informant, she had given him nothing. And they knew that Deerwood was responsible for the attacks now. It might have been nudged into action by the Tusaine rebellion but it was Deerwood's decision. The two sons had admitted to it in the dungeons.

_She opened her eyes to see Nik and Aloys in the light only to find that they were no longer there and she was no longer in the dungeon. Now she was lying on the ground in a grassy clearing. She could hear horses shifting and crickets chirping. She fought to sit up and realized her hands were bound and her head throbbed. She turned her head and saw the men that had abducted her from Tortall. They were laughing and drinking. Time seemed to stretch forever as she watched them. When most had stumbled off to bed, a large, fairly tipsy man stumbled over to her on the ground. 'No one said we couldn't have a little fun with the chit,' he said to no one. She saw him strip off his breeches and loin cloth and he reached for hers. She had guessed that she wasn't a virgin when she had reached the dungeons but she couldn't remember it if she had been awake or she had been unconscious when it had happened. She had always thought it was a blessing. Now she felt him tear her maidenhood and she locked her mouth shut against the cries of pain. She couldn't fight back. She could only stay still and let him rape her._

_The scene changed again though she still felt the pain between her legs and could see blood on the floor below her and on her thighs. She located her breeches, left in a heap by her side and pulled them on, not wanting to face whatever it was without her pants. Then she was standing in the ballroom with a tray on her arm and she was walking towards Roald as he beckoned to her. Over his shoulder she saw the assassin shoot but she couldn't move. She stood still as Roald pitched forward and then collapsed to the floor with three arrows in his back. She saw Faleron at his side frantically checking for a pulse and seemingly unable to locate one. She felt tears start to build in her eyes. Roald was the best knight master she could have asked for and he was going to be a great king. He already was proving he had the skills to become one of the best in history._

_'__The Prince is dead,' she heard Faleron say only loud enough for the advisors around the body and for her to hear. 'Why? Why didn't you do something?' He turned on her and took her by the shoulders hard enough to bruise to shake her violently. She couldn't answer simply because she was forbidden to speak in her Ordeal. She wished she could assuage his obvious anger and grief but it wasn't the real Faleron and that wasn't what had happened. _

_He let her go and she fell to her knees. When she looked up she was in the Throne Room and Roald and Shinko were sitting in front of her looking concerned. Faleron looked from her to the crowd and drew his sword. She recognized this moment, it frequented her nightmares. Faleron dodged off into the crowd to slay the mage that was harming her. But instead of slaying the mage like she had been told happened, two guards materialized next to the mage and Faleron was engaged in battle from both sides. He had no armor on under his dress clothes and the crowd parted away from him to let him fight alone. She wanted to yell at Roald to do something. She wanted to yell at everyone to do something. Then Faleron fell, a sword through his chest. She bit her arm hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from screaming out loud. She crawled to his side and reached to hold his hand. The tears were falling like a storm down her face and she could feel the burn in her throat and in her head telling her that she was likely to cry for a long time. _

_She didn't know how long she sat there looking at Faleron's paling features and glazed over eyes but when she looked up she was sitting in a carriage and Faleron's body was gone. She could barely pull herself together but she reminded herself that this was her Ordeal and it was not real. Faleron was alive outside of the Chamber waiting for her. A scream interrupted her assurances of reality beyond the Chamber. Then she was twelve again and she was wearing a heavy gown with several layers of petticoats against the chill of the spring air in the north. The carriage halted. She remembered this moment. This was the moment that had led to her decision to become a knight. The moment that had set her on the path to saving Roald, to Faleron, to the woman she was now. The Daughter of the Convent gripped her arm, digging her nails in to hold her still. In reality the Daughter hadn't had time to stop her. But now she had to fight to get out and she did fight. She ripped her arm away from the Daughter, earning herself gouge marks down her arms. She shoved the Daughter aside and stumbled out of the carriage towards the screaming._

_A commoner woman stood at the edge of the flood waters screaming after a small bobbing head. In the distance she could see people coming to help but they wouldn't get there quick enough. The boy would drown before then. She jumped into the muddy churning waters and instantly regretted her clothing choice. The mud and water drug her down. She had to fight to keep her head above the water. She had to fight avoid fast moving trees that had come down in the waters and keep an eye on the bobbing head. Still, she moved forward and eventually caught up to the little boy. She caught his hand and pulled him to her. His added weight pushed her under and she breathed in water as she tried to get her face above the water. One hand flailed about, trying to catch hold of the debris floating on top of the water. She caught hold of something coarse and cloth-like. It pulled and she gripped realizing that it was a rope. It burned her palms as it slid through. Her grip wasn't strong enough in the near freezing waters to pull her sodden dress out of the water. It meant that she wasn't going to be able to save herself but she could still save the boy. She managed to hold onto the rope long enough to tie it around the boy's waist and gave it a sharp tug. She managed to stay above the water just long enough to see him pulled from the water before something hard pulled her down under the water. Her skirts were caught on something under the water. Something hit her face, something else collided with her arm. She was numb. Her lungs burned wanting air. This was where she had lost touch with life in reality. Then some mage had managed to pull her from the wreckage. But now water was filling her lungs and she felt her vision getting dark. This was it, she was going to die. Her only regrets were that she was leaving Faleron and the future they had loosely planned together and that she had failed Roald._

She dropped to the flagstone floor, her face pressed against the cold stone. She was shaking. She was gasping for the precious air that had been robbed from her lungs for far too long. She still felt like there might be water in her lungs. Her right eye stung from whatever had cut it under the water. Her left arm was bleeding from gouges left by the Daughter's nails. Her lower abdomen and privates throbbed acutely from the rape. She guessed there was blood still staining her thighs but she didn't know if it showed outside of the undyed cotton she wore. Her arms hurt where the Ordeal Faleron had gripped her to shake her. She rolled onto her back and forced herself to stand. A force urged her towards the iron door and it opened. Cheers erupted as she stepped out, deafening her. Her shaking legs gave way and strong arms caught her.

"Can you walk?" She heard Roald's voice in her ear. She nodded. She needed to walk out of this room. Squires that survived their Ordeals walked out of the chapel. "You're a liar," Roald told her. "I can feel how heavily you're leaning on me." She felt the arm shift around her waist and tighten. "We'll get you to the hallway at least." They moved slowly but eventually got to the hallway. Then she felt someone take her from Roald and sweep her up to be carried.

"She's gasping. Neal said he'd meet us our rooms," Faleron's voice rumbled against her head. "I hope he's ready." She had a hard time seeing out of her right eye but she could make out Faleron's face above her. It was comforting. Briefly she wondered if it was still considered passing her Ordeal if she died after leaving the Chamber. Then her eyes slid closed.


End file.
